What if, She was not there
by TapTapAlways
Summary: What had happened differently in Aragorn's life, had Arwen left middle earth before he was born? How had this affected him after the war? How large would the butterfly effect of Arwen Undomiel leaving for the West be, for all of them?
1. Prologue

_This is a AU story set after the return of the King, with the one difference that Arwen Undomiel chose to sail with her mother, Celebrian, after she was ambushed, many, many years before Aragorn Elessar Telcontar was born. What would his life as a king look like? This, is my theory as to the answer of that question. No copyright infringement is meant by this tale, it is for entertainment only, I make no money by it and own nothing but my own OC's and ideas._

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It was a dark night, soft and silent in Minas Tirith, but in the great feast hall of Merethrond, it was awash in music, laughter and dancing. The two newly crowned kings were standing together by the windows, watching with gentle, in Aragorn's case, and teasing, as far as Eomer went, amusement as the prince of Ithilien danced with his, yet unannounced, bethrothed, the White lady of the Mark.

Imrahil and several other Gondorian lords with daughters of the right age, as well as beauty, were in turn watching the two kings with eyes full of speculation. So was, which were cause of some surprise amongst those very few who noticed, someone who looked on first glance like a youngling from the build, but considering the considerable amount of grey in the hair was not, who was standing some ways away from the kings.

They all started to move as dinner were announced, but the Dunedan, as it must be, kept very close to the king, without crowding him, and as an elegant, dark hood fell, it was revealed to be a woman scarred from battle.


	2. Chapter 1

_Hey, people actually want to read this! As such, I will of course oblige and write some! This will not be especially regularly updated - twice a day one moment and a month passing the next, actually, but I shall if nothing else provide plenty of new material during the summer. Someone wanted to know if this would be riddled with romance, and I can truthfully say that it will not. I mean Eowyn and Faramir are lovey dovey (at least he is. She isn't the kind) and Lothiriel is trying to ensnare every man with a crown out there, but don't worry, they ignore her. As ever, I do not claim to own Lord of the Rings._

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_A_s always in Gondor, and more than ever now when they finally had regained a king, dinner was something of great and grand ceremony and places were something given a frankly silly degree of importance. So the shock of the nobles as this random Dunedan she-warrior sat down unceremoniously merely two places away from the king was barely eclipsed by her starting to casually address said king. However, when her little tirade ended with addressing the king and sovereign of Gondor as "pup", the nobles were outraged enough to actually rise again.

The king, however, did not share in their outrage. He just fondly shook his head and noted "really, Arandura. Not even the elves see me as a child any longer. With one or two notable exceptions..." He turned to Eomer, sitting next to him on his right, with Imrahil on his other side "Eomer, Imrahil" He then included Faramir, on his left, between him and the woman "Faramir. May I introduce a very old friend of my family, and personal mentor of mine. This is Captain Arandura. She was first put in training by my... great grandfather" he looked to her as for confirmation, and she nodded, the movement showing off the white streaks in her hair "as a child and served mostly under my grandfater, Arador. She and my father led forces together at that time. She was one of the Dunedain's pricipal leaders while I was raised by the elves, and has saved my life many times. She also insists never to notice how I have progressed above the venerable age of fourteen". At this, the woman smiled, while Faramir nodded to her politiely, Imrahil looked lightly scandalised still and Eomer just laughed. "Nonsence, Aragorn. You are at least sixteen, anyone would notice that".

"If he is too young a king, I am starting to feel nervous... Eomer noted casually, looking everything but nervous. The man had an easy confidence and presence serving him well even in the stiff environment of Gondorian Court. "Well, your people do not grow very old, so I would say you are older than he is" the Captain teased, getting a playfully outraged look from her own king "however, I suspect with some help from us adults" she here gave Erkenbrand, sitting a few places further down, a respectful nod "you will both do supremely well".

"You do realise I am older than he is" Elessar smiled, shaking his head at his excentric protector. "Surely it is strange though" Lothiriel, Imrahil's only daughter after three sons, cut in so sweetly Eomer actually had to hide a wince. "A man of your age and position yet unmarried. Was it because of the war? Surely you must miss female company". Her smile was so softly flirtatious she looked to belong in a Jane Austen film.

The Sovereign of the reunited kingdom watched her for a few seconds before replying. "The war has affected us all, princess, and the hard years before it even more so. Some, who are the kind to understand such matters, say that maybe I was destined for great love, and somehow, it was thwarted in coming to pass. But I did marry, actually, the same year as your grandparets did. I sired twins, just a year older than your father" he glanced at Imrahil, his voice unreadable "I just had news how they fared in the war".

All within hearing went silent upon recieving these news. Months had passed since the king was crowned, it being already summer, and they were soon to depart for the funeral procession carrying the late king Theoden home, and none of them had heard of the king having possible heirs before. Well, almost none. The faces of some, such as Arandura, of course, king Eomer, or indeed the Prince Steward himself, reflected no surprise. This only made Imrahil, having known nothing of this matter, frown more deeply as he asked "Twins? Heirs, or daughters?"

"You were married before?" Imrahil continued the question without actually awaiting an answer as he looked at the new king, bewildered. "To a right fool, too" Arandura answered with a sneer. The king gaves her a rather stern look, but she merely shrugged "She was! I told her very clearly not to go into that damn wolf-infested forest, and she went just to prove to me I had no authority over her! I could not care less that she got herself killed; good riddance! But she also almost got her twins killed with her. It was just pure luck that we found her before her heart stopped beating and that you were so close!"

Aragorn smiled at this. "I know. And no one could be gladder than I that we managed to save them as she died, but your Lordesse has not needed you to defend her for quite a while now." "I know. That's why I am here, protecting you instead. Eru knows you need looking after" she huffed.

Aragorn laughed, then looked to the men next to him, growing serious "my wife was killed by wolves, as you might have realised. She was eight months gone with twins at the time. She was beyond our aid as we found her, she had lost much blood and her body was broken, but we managed to save both the children." He sent an affectionate look to the woman at his side "much thanks to Arandura's fast tracking."

"You are a better tracker than I have ever seen" noted Eomer "were you distracted by that it was your wife? Wouldn't be the first time we've seen that happen". Arandura shook her head "he was further off in camp. We had to go straight after her without the delay, so I had to do it myself. We sent for the rest of them as we found her. They met the messenger only a third of the way from us, I remember" "yes, I had gotten your first message, and the tracks of the men that had spread out some to help you search were very easy to find and follow, though your own trail was much more subtle" Aragorn answered, his voice a little tense.

"Lordesse?" The question came from Eomer "is that a numenorian title? I am not familiar with it". Arandura shook her head "it is a female lord. A lady has duties separate form a lord, does she not? A Lordesse does not. You see, many years ago… well, that hardly matters now. Aradora is the Lordesse of the north, Arnor, now".

Eomer chuckled "the lordesse? Not just any lordesse then?" Aragorn smiled at his young friend "of course. There are several; Arandura is the eldest, to take an example. A lordesse is any warrior woman of royal blood, while my eldest technically is the heir of Arnor".

Imrahil stared at the grey-haired woman "you are of royal blood?" "Yes, Arador was my cousin. I am only the daughter of a royal daughter, of course. The sons of Elrond trained me for battle, as they have several woman of our family the last few hundred years. We have more time for their revenge compared to our brothers, you see. Had they not, I would think, history would have simply buried me". Aragorn chuckled good-naturedly again "yes, we are busy ruling a people and raising families. Most regrettable. Well" Aragorn rose" I am retiring early. I need to check on my patient" "How is he?" Arandura's eyes were now worried, but mostly for Aragorn. "Recovering" Aragorn shook his head. " I was too far off to help him. Had you not been there, Halbarad would have perished on the Perellenor that day, I am certain of it". "Well" Arandura noted calmly, meeting his eyes "I was. And he did not". She suddenly gave him a warm, caring smile "you're welcome".

The king retired just after, and he did not speak of his children, nor his long dead wife, again, and the nobility blatantly assumed that it was because he had just daughters to show for it and thus no heirs. After all, if he had had a son, he would have told them. At least, the Gondorians assumed so, and the Rohirrim simply thought it was none of their business and that he'd talk when he was ready.

_I have always had the view, that with Aragorn's great sense of duty, it was only commitment to Arwen which kept him from marrying to produce heirs, thus, with her having sailed before he had any chance of knowing her (namely before he was born), he married fairly young. As someone noted (to my great consternation, it took me a week to figure out what they meant by it) it was not duty but love which made Aragorn stay with Arwen. I mean in my earlier notes (back when these where separate chapters) when saying duty the commitment they've made to each other, which does come of love indeed. So, yes, I am very well aware they have a fantastic lovestory - never fear. If you want to know how I do see the couple, I recommend you reading my other story "The Queen and her King", its companion piece "The King and His Queen" and the final in the trilogy "The Prince and His Parents"._

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	3. Chapter 2

The long road to Rohan, the funeral of king Theoden to be attended by a very large portion of also Gondor's nobility, was fairly uneventful, though the Rohirrim - with the silent inclusion of Gondor's king - was more than a little annoyed, as well as amused, by the fussy Gondorians. Only a few, like Imrahil and his sons for example, were actually able to keep pace with them at all, even with the wounded they brought with them home. There was a lot of waiting and not showing them that they rolled their eyes.

Eomer spent the time surrounded not only by his own marshals, but also Aragorn, who seemed to be rather grateful to be saved from all the Gondorian nobles scrambling for his attention. Faramir, too, who was a good horseman, had joined this group, staying next to Eowyn most of the time, slightly surprised that it was allowed, even though he frequently felt Eomer's watchful eyes upon them, as well as those of several of the older rohirric marchals and advisors. Friends, no doubt, of not only the late king Theodren but also marshal Eomund.

Many of the Gondorian lords kept trying to bring up a possible match with their king, and Imrahil especially brought up the issue of succession obnoxiously often, but the rohirrim marshals kept themselves between the Gondorian nobles and their own young king, and his elder brother king usually ended up being included as well, thus shielding him from the unwanted attention. Aragorn could surely have escaped the little guard had he wanted to, but he was merely grateful for having some peace and quiet during the long rides.

They arrived in Edoras after what even the wounded rohirrim thought was a ridicolously long time, to be greeted by many eorlingas wishing to pay respect to both their fallen king and the new, who was going to take the crown after the funeral, according to their tradition. They moved rather smoothly and with few stops up the hillside to the Meduseld.

They were greeted at the stable by stable hands, but also someone who looked much more authoritative. It was a woman, with flowing, flaxen hair and the steady hands of a master rider. "You have female stable masters in rohan?" Faramir asked with interest. "Occasionally" Eomer's eyes had narrowed as she came up towards them, and he objected "but she is not one of mine".

"Your majesty!" She suddenly cried out in greeting, stepping forward and, completely sidestepping Firefox and his rider, instead catching Roheryn's bridle. "Hi there, little one" she greeted the large stallion affectionately. "Eowyn" Aragorn smiled in greeting. "Liking it here, I see". The woman laughed. "Quite, Aragorn. You might not get me to come back home. You will find my sister indoors, doing her..." she shrugged "princess thing. She is exotic, here, too, it is quite funny to watch everybody fuss about her. She never notices, as usual". Aragorn chuckled, turning to Eomer. "Eomer! Let me introduce you to my stable master, the official horsemaster for the lordesses - this is Eowyn, my ward".

"Your ward?" It was Imrahil who spoke up, but Aragorn merely cut him off with a distinct nod, dismounting his horse and leaving him in the care of the seemingly rohirric woman, instead grabbing his saddle bags. "How long have you been here?" She shrugged "six days, give or take, my lord".

Any other words were cut short, as a large, grey wolfhound came around the stables, not barking, nor scaring any of the rohirric horses, though several of their masters still had to step in and prevent accidents as the Gondorian lords' horses were more easily rattled, and their riders far less competent horsemen. Eowyn the stablemaster were even less moved by the dog, only taking half a step backwards, still steadily holding Roheryn's bridle with a secure hand, letting the dog run between her and the horse, which did not even shift.

A mere moment later the dog, panting, were at Aragorn's feet, shuffling around in the typical delight of any dog greeting its master. The king knelt down somewhat, petting the dog with a wide smile. "Hi, there, old friend. I see you've survived the fighting unscathed, yet again".

Imrahil looked scandalised, as usual, as the king rose, but Eomer, clearly having judged things to be well in hand, offered a smile and then went to order around his stable hands, taking no more notice. Faramir, however, extended a hand to let the dog sniff him. "And who is this? I take it you know each other quite well?"

"Indeed, since he was a tiny pup" Aragorn gave his hound an affectionate smile and a last pat, shouldering his saddle bags like a man who was used to manage by himself, without thought. "Elendil, this is my steward. Be nice to him. Prince Faramir, this is Elendil, my hound. You will likely find several younger halfbrothers of his in the Anorian party, with more or less significant or disgraceful names, depending on which child of mine named them".

Still somewhat taken aback, the Gondorian nobles were led to their respective guest quarters, and, completely unruffled, the Rohirrim went about their duties. When they all gathered a hour later in the royal hall of Meduseld, the large hound was still with king Elessar, but now they were also joined by three more of his kind, what looked like a younger replica of Arandura, an exceptionally beautiful woman with hair and eyes as dark as coal, and a young boy who spoke with the dogs and didn't seem willing to quite meet the eyes of anyone else.

The two kings were speaking amongst themselves, while Erkenbrand and a whitehaired and heavily scarred Dunedan with only one hand (which bore only four fingers) listened to the words the two kings spoke with an attentiveness that probably meant it was statebusiness being dealt with.

"And who is this?" It was Imrahil's second oldest son, Echirion, who looked at the seemingly Numenorian beauty with astonishment. Aragorn looked up, but not before the warriorlike woman, armed with a longsword of Numenorian style and with her dark hair cropped half-short at her shoulders had already narrowed her eyes in inspection.

"Ah" the king smiled, and nodded to the newly arrived Gondorians. "Imrahil, Faramir. Echirion. Meet my eldest, the lordesse of Arnor; Aradora Aragornion" the stern woman nodded, her eyes still watchful and her hand not an inch from her sword. "And her, regretfully fallen, twin brother's son, Aramir Telcontar" he looked down at the young man sitting informally at the floor with the dogs.

"The king looked back up, nodding to the other two numenorians "this is my youngest daughter, and my son from my second marriage. Aradora, Arwen, Arion, Kitten" he gave the young man a very pointed glance to make him look up" meet prince Imrahil, of Dol Amroth, his three sons, and Faramir, prince of Ithilien.

Aradora, who clearly wasn't of the very social variety, merely nodded in responce to being introduced, and Arwen, named so not only for her status as a royal daughter, but in honour of her long-cousin, the daughter of her foster-grandfather, a woman who had departed the shores of middle-earth and sailed to the west, many long years before she herself was born, looked up and gave a kind smile before going back to her embroidery. Crown prince Aramir Telecontar gave a short nod, his eyes unusually wise and decerning for his age, but desperately tired, and leant his head against his gradfathers leg, his hands hidden in the grey furr of the dogs, who all seemed inclined to stay with him.

The fourth introduced, the boy's uncle, as it were, gave a more verbal greeting. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My father has told me many tales, for the short time we have been reunited" the man pulled his rather short, white hair back from his eyes in a gesture rather more youthful than the rest of his appearance, and gave a charming smile. "It will be my pleasure to get to know you all better, especially you, prince Faramir. As my father's stewards, I guess we shall end up spending some time together".

"Steward?" This time it was the prince's youngest son, Amrothos, who spoke. "Surely you're not a steward, but a prince!" "Your cousin Faramir might tell you that a man is perfectly capable of being both" Aragorn replied, and turning back to Eomer, left them to speak amongst themselves, though he did not do so in a harsh or rude fashion, as it was not his way.

"I am not elligeble for the throne, I was injured too badly to ever sire sons, and some other factors, which we need not speak of today" Arion said by way of explanation, leaning back in his chair like a man much older than he was, or indeed his father even, would have, his injuries clearly having aged him quite a bit, even making his hair go grey far prematurely.

"Well, there are plenty of heirs for the throne anyway, big brother" Arwen noted and elegantly hid a yawn behind a long, graceful and very pretty hand. Eomer suddenly caught himself watching her and turned his eyes back to her father, paying attention again to their talk, very decidedly. Aragorn could be seen by the observant to smile softly for himself at his younger brother king's distractions.

"So, are you married, Enchirion, Amrothos?" their new prince asked, clearly making small-talk, as they sat down to eat a few minutes later. "No, are you?" Amrothos answered and asked. "Nay" replied the northern prince, looking over at his sister, whose dark, unbound hair shone with elven jewels, much like her namesake must have looked like, so many years ago. "I have too many sisters to pretend to keep track of. Not that they much need me to, of course, quite a few of them fight better than I do".

Echirion raised an eyebrow, raising his cup to his lips. "You have more siblings?" "Oh, aye. Four sisters, not counting Aradora, my halfsister, and Eowyn, my halfsister by our mother, then we have Kitten, he's my only nephew, and then there's my half-brothers, too - we shouldn't speak of the eldest, he fell in the war. Kitten's father" he clarified, before he, too, lifted his cup to drink.

"Oh" Echirion stated numbly, but his brother cut him off before he could embaress himself by his speechless state. "Why do you call the heir to the throne 'Kitten'?" Arion laughed. "Well, he will grow up to be a lion, will he not? A regal leader, I do not doubt. But he is young yet, just a kitten. Most of us have ranger names, nicknames to hide from Sauron, and he acquired that one as a joke from the men on his first patrol, last year. Though between you and me, father has used it for years, ever since he was four, I think".

"You seem very close" noted Imrahil's eldest son, for the first time entering into the conversation. "We are. Father does not stand too harshly on ceremony within family. What with my sisters' characters, aside from Arwen, that would be a waste of time anyway". "Where are they, then?" Echirion, now having found his voice, saw fit to ask. "You said you had four?"

"My eldest sister has stayed behind; her duty as a lordesse. The next should be here somewhere - she rode out, joining a hunt, I believe. And Ariel..." he smiled slightly at the thought of this relative. "Well, she will come back when she's... tired. Last time I heard from her, eighteen months back, she was going orc-hunting in the misty mountains".

The prince snorted, but he made even that gesture seem rather regal, seemingly having enherited his father's grace. "Whatever you do, never tell her how dangerous such ventures are. I think her certainty that they're not is the only thing that sees her through them alive". And if the prince out of Arnor saw how surprised the Gondorian princes were, and he doubtlessly did, he did not show it.

_I hope you'll enjoy! No copyright infringement is intented._

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	4. Chapter 3

Lady Lothiriel watched with her jaw set tight, though she knew it was unattractive, how even her brothers swarmed around the princess from Arnor. They had been one week in Rohan, had seen King Theoden laid to rest, and she was already sick and tired of this country. Tired of the horses and the grass and of every man around her paying attention to another woman as if she was not even here!

Princess _Arwen's_ sister, not the bastard in the stables, nor the one who thought she was a man, but the other sister, had left before they'd even had a chance to meet her. To make her feel completely left out, Lothiriel had not even been introduced to the princes, as she had arrived late for the meal on the first day - an hour was far too short a time to get ready for dinner at all, let alone after a long ride!

The noblewoman - apparently she was not allowed to even call herself a princess anymore, as those barbaric northerners said that she was the daughter of a prince, not a king - watched on irritably, wondering if perhaps her father and the king would arrange a marriage between her and the younger prince, the crown prince. Surely she was the best match for him? Unless the king was a widower, of course. She'd rather not marry the rohirric king if she could avoid it - she did not like this place one bit. The ragtag princess who thought she was so special was welcome to him, the gondorian lady thought uncharitably.

"You look lonely, my lady". Lothiriel looked up to see a charming, numenorian-looking man just beside her. He was handsome and looked just a bit older than she was. "May I?" when she nodded, he sat down next to her, smiling. "And who are you? Are you from Arnor?" she asked. He was really quite handsome, and he looked as if he could be of noble blood. "I am the Snowprince" he replied, smiling still, and very charming.

Lothiriel found herself smiling back. So this was the king's second son, then. He was the right age, and very handsome with his dark eyes, not the classic numenorian colour, and just slightly shorter hair than was the average. As he asked for her name, he took her hand in both of his and kissed it. Lothiriel felt good for the first time in days.

"They say you are good with Quenya" Aramir looked up, sitting outside the Meduseld with several of his family's large wolfhounds, to see Faramir standing near the doors. "May I join you?" "Certainly" the prince smiled slightly. "I have been taught it enough. I suspect I will see much work in the archives with you and my uncle". "Well, that would be pleasant work, though dusty" Faramir sat down. "These really are some of the largest hounds I have ever had the pleasure to get to know. I don't think I've ever heard their names".

"It would be" the young man agreed. "Well, the large one with the dark grey furr is Elendil, he is Atada's. Then there's Anarion" he patted the dog that had its head in his lap "you know because he is so light grey. He belongs to my uncle, sort of. There's Gil-ranger, one of my aunts named him" the boy grins "he isn't here now, he is probably guarding my youngest aunt, he does that. Then" he nods simply to the last, slightly smaller hound" that's Isildur, he belongs to my full aunt, my father's twin sister. He never, ever comes when anybody else calls. Not even Atada - nobody does that. Ignore him, I mean". "Well, dogs are faithful, but it seems it is still lucky they rarely get sentenced guilty of treason" Faramir joked.

"I'm sorry" Aramir looked up suddenly, meeting his eyes. "For your father. And your brother. I never had a brother, but my uncle tried to be like a big brother to me. I think I get it" "I am sure you do" Faramir replied honestly. He then hesitated, before he admitted. "My father wasn't always the greatest of fathers, but he was a good man".

"Nor was mine. I... people say I have lost my father, but I haven't, really" the young prince met Faramir's eyes unvaveringly, his gaze very steady "I cannot say that I have. My father is in there" the nodded his head backwards against the hall "I just don't name him father. But he is". "He seems a great man. I haven't known him for long, but I am glad we have gotten him for a king" Faramir answered honestly. "We are lucky" the prince agreed, and they nodded in understanding, two very different men, but with very similar hearts.

_So, apparently I cannot, when left to my own devises, spell Roheryn like a normal person, but that has been fixed! I am normally good with spelling things, generally, but that one is tricky, one has to admit!_

_It has been pointed out that "Eowyn" is a rohirric name - Eowyn the stablemaster's father was rohirric, which is also why she looks rohirric, and he chose part of her name. Who he was and why Aragorn ended up raising his child, will make complete sense later on. This is also the case of why Arion claims to have more brothers than he ought to have, at this point, and, strangely unrelated, you will discover, the apparent disrepancy with princes (and hands) you might notice in this chapter. Trust me, it is meant to be that way and you will know why eventually. I chose the name Eowyn as life works that way - strange and truly unbelievable coincidences are so common._

_Also, I should perhaps point out that Faramir is _not_ flirting with someone underage in this chapter, they are just bonding over elvish history. In this day and age their conversation could possibly be enterpreted as slightly flirtatious if you have those glasses on, so I'll just clearify right here and now that no such thing is intended, at all, I am just using a spot of oldfashion language. This is Lord of the Rings, sandbox edition, after all. Besides, Faramir is_ totally_ spoken for!_

_No copyright infringement is intented._

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	5. Chapter 4

_So, as there is doubtlessly some confusion with all the new heirs of Isildur around here, here comes a rundown, curtesy of Arwen and a slightly flirtatious Eomer._

_No copyright infringement is intented._

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"He seems ever your campanion" Arwen looked up from her embroidery and smiled at Eomer. "He is. Gil-Ranger. Technically he belongs to me and all my sisters, well, except Aradora, but they rarely take him out in the field with them, so he has gotten very used to me over the years. Eowyn is a favourite of his too, though". "It is a bit strange, that we both have little sisters with the same name" he mused softly, sitting down beside her on a bench in the near empty hall. As it was just past mid-day and not close to a meal, it was near deserted, aside from Arwen and the large hound resting protectively at her feet. "They look alike, too; and just as stubborn" she noted in reply, making him laugh.

"I guess so" he conceeded. "I only have her, now. There was only ever the two of us, and our cousin, Theodred. Your family is a bit confusing, there seems to be a lot of you". "Yes" she looked down on her needlework, but she was smiling and Eomer was sure she gave him all of her attention nevermind what her eyes and fingers busied themselves with. "Our people lost three chieftains in just a few decades, and were in the end left for eighteen years without one, that set everyone on edge. Father married very, very young for one of our people, younger than you are now".

"The same year as Imrahil's parents, he told us" Eomer's voice was slightly disbelieving. He trusted the word of his friend without question, but it was hard for him to wrap his head around such things as Aragorn's age. "Yes, and was a widower, and father of two, within a year. He raised them, Aradora and Arathorn III, and..." she let out a long breath.

"He travelled. He knew your grandfather Thengel, here in Rohan, he went to Gondor and Harad... grandmother Gilrael raised them in Rivendell, same as with him. I think it did her good, after all the grief... thirty years went by before he gave in to the nervousness of the council of elders and married mother. They had my brother a year or so afterwards" she shrugged gracefully, just a barely-there movement of one shoulder, but it made Eomer want to stretch out a hand and bruch her hair to the side, touch her neck. Gently, of course, but he didn't.

"Then came my eldest sister; the lordesse. Four girls in total, as it turned out; I the youngest, and then..." she visibly winced, but she continued "she had just announced her sixth pregnancy, when she was found... in bed with an unknown man. He was from rohan, or so the story goes" she was talking rather fast now, as if to excuse herself "but father says that it was never proven that he even knew he had bedded a married woman, he refused to defend himself" she sighed, looking pointedly at her needlework now "they were hanged, a few days after Eowyn was born. Some, mostly in mother's family, who took the disgrace to heart, wanted her to be hanged, still carrying child, but father forbid it. He took Eowyn himself, and has cared for her since. He simply said that she was the sister of five of his children, and that was that".

"You are very truthful about this. I admire that" was all Eomer could think of to say. "Oh, you are father's friend. He would never wish to keep this story from you. Besides; you are a protector, not raised to be a king, you will want closer ties to Gondor and you need a queen who knows trade and diplomancy. I am the most suitable of father's daughters, closest to your age, and whatever my siblings think, I know very well how you look at me, my lord" now she did look up "and father watches me, too, wondering what I think of you. So I would hardly call you a mere passing acquaintance. I can be frank".

Eomer found himself smiling "and how do you like me?" She snorted lightly, but managed to be supremely graceful even then. Her elven blood, maybe, Eomer guessed. "I would never commit to that without first knowing what Arandura think of you. If she thinks well of you, and Aradora likes you, I am sure you'd make a fine husband". "Well, there's a task. They seem rather..." he smiled "decided ladies. Or lordesses, of course. They have very unusual names, too, haven't they? I am not an expert at elvish, but..." "Oh, father was being quite outlandish when he named her that" she smiled, her eyes darting back to the needle.

"I know great grandfather Dirhael thought so, especially. And you'd think since she was so much older, Arandura had that manner of name first, but she didn't. She was known as Arandur from her valour and loyalty, but she had another name at birth" she looked up again, smiling openly mischeviously now "but I am young and you shall not hear it from me". "Fair enough" Eomer smiled at her, finally reaching out a hand and pulling an errant string of hair back behind her ear. By the looks of things, she didn't mind. She felt safe with him, he concluded, pleased. That was a good start.

"My men" Eomer took up the conversation only almost a minute later, but Arwen had seemed content to sew and let him reflect in peace. "Said that your sister was called Araniel. That means 'King's daughter', does it not?" "Yes" she confirmed "yes it does. It was the only time mother named one of us" she looked up with a brilliant smile which had Eomer dazzled for just a moment. "Father was being quite the traditionalist with us, otherwise. The royal son, daughter of the sun, royal maiden and the royal daughter. And Alasse for our little sister instead of a family name".

"Eowyn Alasse?" Eomer tilted his head a little, thinking "that sounds quite beautiful. Doesn't is mean...?" "They both mean joy, yes" Arwen nodded, and started tying off a thread in her work. "Her father said he wanted the name of horses in her name, and I guess that after the way her life started, father wished her all the joy he could give her. She is a wonderful little sister" she concluded, and Eomer asked no more, nevermind that he could hear how much more of a story there was there.

She had confided rather a lot in him already, and the years after her birth, as it were, in her family history, could wait. The young king settled in, the moments after, with a glass of mead and some paperwork just a bit off in the hall, and contented himself with watching her, now and again. He knew that there was still very much to learn about the grey-eyed, tall, beautiful and very intelligent numenorian, but he thought that he had already learnt enought to know that she would not take offence at his glances. Judging by her amused smile as she started the embroidery with new thread, she didn't. Eomer could not see it from his vantage point, but slowly, as the afternoon grew on, the shape of a lion grew in the delicate hand.


	6. Chapter 5

_I am currently aiming to update this story every second month, but hopefully it will become every month closer towards the later spring/summer._

_This chapter is mostly a sort of interlunde, to be honest, between the initial setup and the beginning of the actual story. I am sorry that things aren't progressing very speedily. This is also a rather short chapter, but I promise more action next time - when they are all _finally_ in the right place for the plot!_

_I recommend reading "These Plot Bunnies Who Bite" while you're waiting (for those of you who aren't already) - it is full of gapfillers and the like for this story. A few verse-neutral stories as well, about for example Aragorn's childhood in Rivendell, and some curiosa and such. A few spoilers too, as well, I am sad to say, but nothing too bad!_

_About the young nobleman Geo, I did see your suggestions, Anthi, but a great number of them was actually Quenya, not Sindarin! Anor and Isil for example is the sun and the moon - in high elvish. Besides, I have gotten fond of Geoffrey's name being the perfect analogy for him being so completely out of place. I will try to name the rest of the Gondorians a little less inappropriately! I promise._

_TapTap_

Faramir, now publicly bethrothed to lady Eowyn, had volunteered to go back to the White City while the king travelled, and his fellow prince steward immediately agreed to go with him, as did many of the other numenorians in their party, having come from Arnor, but the prince's two youngest sisters announced their intention to instead go with their father.

Arwen, ladylike as she otherwise was, even to Gondorian eyes, rode astride, not in sidesaddle, and had turned out to been quite the skillful rider - not even her rohirric hosts would have found anything to fault in her technique, even had they looked for faults, and they were not the kind of people who did. Her little sister were an even better rider, and Eomer made a point to tell his friend's ward that she would make any rohirric family proud to accept her as one of them.

They had a lot to do for the coming winter, but when there was time; the king of the Mark made a mental note to himself, he would ask Aragorn about her father. It was not so very long ago, after all. No doubt they could yet find her relatives here in the riddersmark, and different from her mother's family, he had no doubt they would welcome her with open arms. She was a daughter to be very proud of, after all. And whatever her parents had done, she was an innocent in their crime.

Thus the rohirrim watched them go, Aradora joining a eored going for patrol, as she wanted to learn the lay of the land, and Eomer had seen no reason to refuse her request, or, in the long run, offer.

Faramir spent a the time, the first hour or so after leaving Edoras, with thinking of Eowyn, but Arion, perhaps sensing that the thoughts would make his fellow prince melancoly, soon drew him out. Like the steward of Gondor had already guessed, the king's eldest living son was quite a capable diplomat, at ease in conversation with anybody, much like his father. His young nephew, who at the last minute had decided to join them instead of going with his grandfather, was far more shy, but still supremely pleasant company.

The speed was even slower this time, as the organisers of camp was now Gondorians instead of the effective and highly accustomed Rohirric officers which had done the planning on the trip in the other direction. Imrahil was very effective in overall organisation, but Faramir quite often found the two princes from Arnor exchanging slightly thoughtful looks.

It took the better part of a month for the main company, lead by Imrahil, to get all the way back to the White City, as the company made numerous stops in the homes of various lords after reaching the Gondorian borders. Faramir on the other hand took a smaller party of his own rangers and the rangers from the north which had accompanied the northern princes, and headed straight for the city, once they reached the borders, and reached the rammas ector in just under three weeks.

Faramir introduced the king's son, his fellow prince steward to the nobles still in the city, but left the crown prince mostly to search the city archives, mentioning his existence, but not in detail, nor is presence in the city, leaving it to the king to explain the sucession in full when he arrived.

Arion proved quite the capable ruler, as well as diplomat, and he and Faramir took over most of the decision-making from Arandura who had ruled in the king's stand during the funeral of king Theoden, with the assistance of some older lords and Halbarad.

Arandura, the new steward reflected, had done very well in their absence, clearly well experienced in commanding, and Faramir came to her often in the days before the new return of the king, for advice.

It was towards the end of the summer when Aramir sat beneath the White tree, on the bench overlooking the view, with a old tome in his hands, that he ran into, or rather - was ran into, the youngest son of a nobleman who was, rather unusually, blessed with five heirs, as he later learned.

Towards midday, it was growing far to hot to sit there, but the two new friends were reluctant to part ways so soon. "Will you follow me to the gardens?" Geo looked at him, slightly confused. "There are not many gardens in the city, except the private ones. The only ones up on this level is the king's!" The young nobleman was bit surprised to see the easy smile on the other's face at this.

"I know that. I am allowed to go there, trust me" Aramir, perhaps wisely, chose not so speak about why just yet "Will you join me?" "Are you sure it is alright?" "yes. I come from the north, as you know... my father died in the war, but he knew the king. That's why I live here now". The Gondorian's eyes grew at that "in the citadel?" Aramir nodded, not choosing to add more information. It was too soon.

The two young boys were soon very good friends, spending many hours hiding away amongst the books together, but Aramir had still not elaborated beyond that he was the king's ward (which was really true enough) when the autumn came, and with it the return of the king.


	7. Chapter 6

_So, there is a fair amount of politics in here, as we start to get into the story, and these next few chapters ought to answer a lot of questions on a wast variety of things! At least I hope they will..._

_For those of you interested in the two situations mentioned only briefly here, they are told about in more detail in "these plot bunnies who bite"._

_TapTap_

As the king arrived back in the early autumn, the few lords residing permanently in the white city got busy reporting back on things meant to have progressed in the summer; matchmaking and trying to gain favour.

There were plenty of rumours going around, but not officially confirmed, about the beautiful young woman he had brought with him, and who served as hostess for the king on the few small occasions held before the official social season could begin when court was full in the winter.

What was now confirmed was that the king actually _had_ heirs. Not just the two twin daughters as many nobles had before assumed, but sons, too. The prince which prince Faramir had brought back from Edoras, was apparently the eldest living, but not heir to the throne. Everybody pretended to understand, but nobody did.

There was the king's eldest, too, whom nobody got either. She reminded them all of the dunedan warrior who had called the king "pup" so irreverently first they saw her, and then had been allowed to rule in his stead. She was presented as the "lordesse of Arnor, and Captain General of Gondor", the latter having been Boromir's old title.

A woman as the Captain General? Many of the nobles were astonished and scandalised, but nobody dared to protest. As Imrahil arrived with his party, word about the kings grandson, apparently residing within the citadel already, spread within a day. It was the afternoon after his arrival, when the king himself confirmed it the throne room, adressing a young grey-eyed numenorian as his grandson.

It was not long after this that a woman fighter appeared in Gondor, only to reappear in the citadel, jewels in her hair, looking quite like the young woman already in the king's company, both of them referred to as "princesses". Rumours that they were in fact younger daughters of the king started as soon as the prince of Dol Amroth's party arrived at harbour, but nobody dared to mention it in the king's presence, and the steward, clearly in the know, merely smiled and assured them that it would all be explained later on in the fall.

It was an early morning, the sun still only low in the sky, as Aragorn sat in his newly completed office and wrote, looking up at a knock on his door. "Enter" he replied, making sure to keep his voice warm and welcoming, having learned early on that many in the citadel found him very intimidating, and that it was best to always take care to come off as kind; not that he usually was all that stern.

With this visitor, though, the king found that he did not need to be so cautious, and he smiled warmly to his second youngest daughter. "Ada" she greeted him, stepping into the office, looking like she didn't want to intrude, which was fairly rare for her. "Araniel. What's in your heart this morning?" "Are you busy?"

The sovereign shook his head. "Nay." "I was wondering..." she came fully into her father's study and sat down before his desk. "Will my sisters all reside here as well, eventually?" "Yes. Anoriel will come when she deems she can, as Arandura and Aradora are both with us. Ariel.. well, Ariel will be here whenever she next turns up.

As for Arwen, I hope she will live in Edoras, eventually. She would like it there" he noted softly. Araniel snorted "I'd say. Just stars, snow and horses. I thought she'd never agree to leave. Would Eowyn Alasse stay with her?" "She might, yes, if she wishes. Eomer would welcome her" Aragorn gave her a smile "you shall see, daughter. It will become home".

_If anyone wonders why they are holding back with the identities of some of the royal family, Aramir was because Aragorn didn't want to make him a target when he wasn't present, either for social stebers or rebels, and in Arwen's case Aragorn doesn't announce who she is because he doesn't want a lot of suiters to overwhelm her, giving Eomer time to propose before confirming of just high birth she is. You can also remember that it is autumn, and the social season of winter hasn't properly started, so the circles of the white citie where nobles live are more than half empty, making any grand announcements rather premature._

_TapTap_


	8. Chapter 7

_Look, a chapter! That's quite unexpected, is it not? It hasn't been even remotely close to two months! Ah well, there's nothing to say it won't be three next time..._

_I do not own Lord of the Rings. Duh._

_TapTap_

It was all quite the uproar, and Imrahil was immensely upset. He sat at the king's side, together with Faramir, listening to the audience. Several high ranking lords, men who had been close to Denethor during his rule, had been caught red-handed plotting treason against the king, but despite the wealth of circumstantial evidence there was little true proof.

Just as perplexing, one of the leaders was not a lord at all, but a young woman of clear dunedan heritage. It would take witness from either her or one of the lords to bring about true justice; the true leader behind the rebellion not even identified. And neither lords nor the foreign woman talked.

Somewhat to the surprise of mostly Imrahil, but even Faramir, Aragorn seemed calm, almost content. His son and the two older of his daughters were there, too, but neither of the Gondorians could read them. The prince seemed concerned, the streetfighter plotting, if one had to guess, and the king's eldest child stood unmoving next to her just as unreadable Lordesse mentor, neither of them moving a single finger, posed as statues, hands resting casually on the hilts of their swords.

The lords were led in to face trial; the woman, her long dark hair flowing freely down her back, following closely, only she did not stop. It ought not have been possible under such heavy guard, but she simply sidestepped her captors in an easy, well-practised manner, and stepped right ahead, walking all the way up to the throne before anyone had time to blink. Anyone, that is, but the king and his two lordesses, but they didn't move either; the women still statues, and the king's face showing only benign interest.

It seemed their ease was warranted, because she did not raise a hand to the king, instead stepping up to the man at Imrahil's other side, a trusted lord who had served Denethor as advisor for many years, and backhanded him heavily across the face. At the silence of the hall after her outrageous act, she merely shrugged and said clearly, her voice well-cultured and giving the impression of a very well-educated person "what? he was a traitor!"

Ignoring the snort of the princess Araniel, the woman turned and bowed, even sinking down onto one knee, uttering "I am at your service", but she was adressing neither king nor lord, but the two women, still standing as statues near the throne. "Well, I see you have arrived. Quite grandly" Arandura replied dryly. "Sorry - I had to clean up my little sister's mess" the woman shugged again.

"May I remind you that your duties..." Aradora said, not elaborating what they actually were. The woman scoffed, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the three princes Arion, Faramir and Imrahil. "My brother is fine, which is more than can be said for yours!" Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, both women chuckled.

"Come on - let's go get the reports over with. I trust you've got all the names" Aradora gestured to the doors behind the throne with her head. "Sire" the woman turned and addressed the king "I trust my brother brought you word?" "of course I did!" Prince Arion cut in "I am not completely useless!" "Except the way you lose limbs almost like that ragdoll Ariel used to drag around as a child..." "children" the king suddenly cut in, smiling. "Behave".

Imrahil turned to look at the man, but Aragorn was merely sitting at ease at his throne, watching the Lordesses leave the room together; all three of them.

_And that was Anoriel; the third Lordesse. In case anyone is still confused, she was not actually part of the rebellion but infiltrated it in order to put a firm stop to the greedy lords who would seek to rule Gondor by themselves. They're not that many, but of course there's a few; there always is. This quest wasn't originally started by her, but being the oldest sister (full sister, anyway) she stepped in when they weren't doing it properly._

_TapTap_


	9. Chapter 8

_Look, I am writing this story and not lots of other stuff! Will wonders never cease? (No) Three chapters in six weeks! Be impressed!_

_As you might have noticed, I have had a tendency to keep mixing up Aragorn's two middle daughters, Anoriel and Araniel. I have been working on this story so long, I am pretty sure they've swapped places a few times, but I have made up my mind and it should all be edited so it is consistent now. Please tell me if you spot any left-over errors._

_This chapter does not contain any character introductions of the royal family. Thank Eru. I am so _very_ tired of those. I'd like to say that's all, but it really isn't. I'm sorry. It cannot be helped, unfortunately. This is instead an attempt at getting into some normal Gondorian life._

_As before, Lothiriel has mistaken a few things about the princes, and any discrepancies are because of that. It will make sense in this very chapter, I promise. For those of you who read "These Plot Bunnies Who Bite", it probably does already._

_I am not the Tolkien estate. Obviously._

_TapTap_

As the king had now been returned for some weeks, a rutine was settled once more, starting with the king reading letters in his study every morning. In less than a month, the formal social season would be introdused with a ball, and the queen mother was expected to arrive within three weeks to spend the winter in the white city. Already, nobles were arriving to their city houses, meeting the king in formal audiences held every few afternoons.

Normally, the young crown prince was nowhere to be seen, but his uncle often attended, as well as the older lordesse. Usually, one of the other lordesses or not quite lordesses attended as well, but unless it was the captain general, they normally did so out of sight.

This evening, there was a small dinner party held in the citadel. The king of Gondor with his family, including all his lordesses, daughters, grandson and son; Imrahil with his sons and daughter, and Faramir.

Lothiriel had not looked forward to the evening, having now even more northern princesses to steal the eyes of all men in the room - though apparently only half of them were to be adressed as such, as the rest were lordesses - but to her great pleasure, the young prince - the snow prince - was once more at her side, showing her all of his attention, not sparing any for what must be his sisters. She had met his older brother now, a man who looked to be older than the king himself, with several missing fingers and a hand too little. Perhaps that was why he was not the heir to the throne?

Allowing herself to be drawn into the charming ways of the Snow Prince, the evening passed surprisingly easily for Lothiriel. She did find the man a bit boring in his talks about snow and men of war, but one could not overlook that he was Gondorian royalty. After all, if she was married to him, she'd be queen one day, and all nobles had separate bedchambers and separate lives anyway.

She'd not need to talk much to him, after persuading him to propose. Well, unless his father talked to her father, with was really more cultured, but he as a rough northener, after all and couldn't be expected to know how to behave properly as high nobility of Gondor. Besides, most of the time he was a perfect gentleman, listening more than talking, and asking polite questions, as a man ought to behave. The princess - because she was one, whatever they said - was pleased with this.

Arion looked on with amusement on the people around him as they sat in the comfortable drawing room after the dinner. His father; Imrahil and Faramir were talking politics before the fire, the Lordesses, Alasse and Araniel were sprawled across two sofas discussing different ways of training horses and gutting men - in Rohirric to spare the feelings of the Gondorians - and Arwen was sitting in a chair, benevolently smiling as she patiently let Imrahil's three sons fuss over her, taken in by her beauty and high lineage, no doubt.

She seemed very unimpressed in return, clearly preferring Eomer of Rohan's frankness and honest admiration. He knew she had gotten a letter from the man only this afternoon, and like their father, he had good hopes for a lovematch between the two closer to spring.

Himself, he was sitting on another couch, accompanied by his reading nephew and his hound Anarion, Elendil instead choosing to sit by his master by the fire, Gil-ranger guarding Arwen as usual, and Isildur as ever lying by Aradora's feet.

The last two of their company; Imrahil's only daughter, and the lord of the mountains of the north, were sitting closely together, and Arion simply could not distinguish which one of the two were most obviously flirting. The man, nicknamed the snowprince though his family were not even Numenorian, much less royal of origin, was not serious though, seemingly just enjoying the company of a pretty woman.

Lothiriel, however, if his memory of her name served him right, seemed almost predatory. Amusement in the warrior's eyes made him sure he had noticed too. Perhaps she had missunderstood who he was? Surely a minor war-lord was of no interest to a high-born lady of Gondor? Well, he had little doubt that it would all come to rights eventually. There were plenty of cultural differences, but they tended to straighten themselves out with time.


	10. Chapter 9

_Sorry Anthi and all other Lothiriel fans, but while I normally like Lothiriel, her ending up with Eomer in the canon means that she always is one of the good guys, and I really enjoy this opportunity of exploring the possibility of her being a spoiled brat. There is a lot of people in this chapter... Sorry about that too. Elvea means starlike if anyone is curious._

_I should also remind you what Arwen tells us previously: Arandura was once called something else, something elder dunedain remember quite well..._

_I am not J.R.R. Tolkien and thus do not own Lord of the Rings._

It was three days before the offical ball starting off the winter season when the Numenorian party arrived. A Rohirric party, surprisingly containing both their king and white lady had arrived a day previously, as king Eomer said he couldn't stand his sister pining any longer. They were to travel back to Rohan the dimholt road in good time before the snow came.

As the queen mother's party was announced, the king was sitting in the audience chamber with Faramir, Imrahil, Halbarad, Arion and Eomer, as well as the two eldest Lordesses. "Let them in" Aragorn with a smile full of even more warmth than was his wont.

The party shown in was rather large, but the queen mother, an elderly dunedan with white hair and many lines of both sadness and of joy, was easily distinguished. "Mother" Aragorn rose easily, coming forward to let her clasp his hands. "My dear boy" she answered him in turn, kissing the top of his head in greeting, though he had to bend his head to let her do so, which he did with the easy custom of long habit.

"I see you've taken good care of my son, Firiel" Gilraen added. "As always, my lady" Arandura answered readily, not commenting on the lady's use of her birthname instead of her chosen one.

No more words were said between them, as Arion had risen with a happy exclamation at seeing another in the party "brother!" and he got up to hug a young dunedan man who smiled in greeting. This, too, was interrupted, by a shout from another door. "Elvea!" the youngest lordesse, Anoriel, was suddenly running through the room, and was within an instant aggressively kissing the man apparently called Elvea, pulling him away from her brother as she did so. Arion rolled his eyes. "Try not to murder your husband, will you, sister?"

The son-in-law of the king, however, seemed not to be disturbed, perhaps used to this somewhat ungentle treatment, and their greeting was soon overshadowed anyway, by the appearance between the legs of the adults of four small children, three of them seemingly about four, and one somewhat older.

Having greeting his mother, the king crouched down, and let himself be engulfed in a massive hug from all four of them. "Ah, yes" Elvea had broken away from the kiss from his wife, but was looking her lovingly in the eye "our youngest has grown again. Do you wish to see her?" The lordesse looked as if the mere suggestion was somewhat distateful. "No. I bore three of them for you, now I am out until I am allowed to start them in weapons training. Show my father. I'm sure he'll be fascinated".

Crouching down willingly, Anoriel now recieved a massive hug from the slightly older child, a girl at perhaps six years of age. "How is mother's little lordesse?" "Well they say start them young" another woman, without the signia of the lordesses on her shirt, and strangely unarmed, but with the bearing of a badly injured warrior, noted in a bored voice "at least I am stepmother to only two of those little things..." "We're not a burden, then, Tari?" Arion noted, and she rolled her eyes. "No. Usually". At this, Aragorn finally straighted with a laughter, accepting a small baby from his daughter's husband, and turned back towards the throne to address Faramir, Imrahil and Eomer.

"May I introduce you to my mother. Queen mother Gilraen" he gestured towards her "my only son-in-law this far, Elvea" the man smiled warmly in greeting "and his three daughters." The king gestured to the three little girls; the eldest still whispering with her mother, the next one now in the arms of her father, and the youngest, still a very small child indeed, held by the king himself. "These two are the twins" he nodded down to the two little boys by his feet "my youngest children, by my third wife, lost some years ago, and my fourth wife, Tari".

He gestured to the woman who had spoken in such a bored voice, and looked like an injured warrior. Besides that, she looked to be even younger than Arwen was. "Mother, Elvea, Tari; this is Eomer, king of the Riddermark; Imrahil, prince of Dol Amroth by the coast; and Faramir. My steward and Prince of Itillien".

_I promise I will clear up in the next chapter why Aragorn have had so very many wives. I know it would be very unusual with people of numenorian decent, but do remember that in exception to the last marriage, it has been over twenty years between a wife dying and him marrying again every time. It has to do with the succession, and with things yet not explained about Arathorn and Arion. Bare with me, please._

_TapTap_

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Three granddaughters at six years, four years and less than a year by Anoriel and Elvea._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Two twins, four years old._

**Fourth wife**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._


	11. Chapter 10

_This chapter contains absolutely no introductions of Aragorn's family members. In fact I think we have finally heard of them all now. Though we have yet to meet/name a few... In fact, this chapter contains only two main characters and three supporting ones, and one of each you know already. Join me in a sigh of relief. I am not Christopher Tolkien._

_TapTap_

Eomer was relieved at her silence as Arwen followed him out into the garden, her sleeping niece in her arms and Gil-ranger the wolf-hound with his nose in her skirts. He knew everything about battle fields and horses, but courting a beautiful princess had not been an item in his agenda for very long at all in comparison.

He wasn't nervous, not really. It wasn't as if he was in the company of some silly Gondorian woman who would talk endlessly about the hardvest, the weather or dresses, either, but this was such a strange thing. The Eorlingas married for love, and he knew that the Dunedain did this also (usually, at least) but with the succession of the Mark wearing thin and the princess suddenly finding herself with a truly overwhelming number of suitors once her high birth had become common knowledge, coupled with her beauty, they did not really have the opportunity to wait.

Besides her calm manner, there was something calming, too, about the child's presence. Or perhaps it was just the adoring way Arwen held her and looked at her, obviously greatly fond of children. "She's sweet" he started the conversation as they sat down by the roses in the royal gardens. "She's a baby. They're all lovely. I have always wanted some of my own, irrational as that might be". Eomer frowned "why is that irrational? There's no reason why you shouldn't have children, surely?"

Arwen laughed, so softly she didn't even disturb the baby she was peering down at. "But I have two halfbrothers whose mother died giving birth to them, and three nieces whose mother refuses to even touch children younger than five years. Her husband in all his mothering glory, but I have also been a mother to all five of them, six counting my nephew. But..." "But that's not enough".

Eomer smiled, also looking down at the sleeping child. "Is this time when I should make some obvious offer of some sort of being the father to your children?" She wrinkled her nose even more adorably than the baby did "no, I don't think so, Eomer. Just propose to me already. You trying to court me reminds me of Aradora trying to be diplomatic. It looks painful".

There was a snort from behind them, where Eothain was clearly hiding in the bushes. Looking at Arwen, she clearly knew it too. "None of yours lurking?" He joked. She shook her head. "No... I'd say they think it's enough with the dog, but truth be told I think my family decides you're enough of an escort yourself". "A vote of confidence". "Indeed".

Somehow, ten minutes later saw Eomer, now the bethrothed of the king of Gondor's youngest daughter (truth be told he had not made a proposal as much as he had been accepting one, but being the brother of Eowyn had made him very used to being run over by women. Besides, he would kill Eothain if he told anyone, so no one need to know about that part) playing fetch with the great grey hound, listening to the future Queen of the Riddermark singing a very sweet, elvish lullaby to the still sleeping child. He could get used to that. In fact, he hoped to get to very soon.

"If I want seven children" the voice of the beautiful princess made Eomer turn towards her "would you think that too many?" Eomer snorted "we can have exactly as many as you want". Adressing only himself, a minute later, he murmured "all my advisors, nagging about succession, is really going to like her; _and_ that plan".


	12. Chapter 11

_I am writing a _lot_ on this story right now! Here - have another chapter! I am still not Tolkien._

_TapTap_

It was at dinner a few days after the numenorian party arrived, that Eomer asked the question. Most of their escort had left earlier that very day to make the long journey back before winter came, this time accompanying Halbarad, who had left to be reunited with his own family in Arnor, so only Eomer, Faramir and Eowyn was joining the royal family this evening. "The Eorlingas sometimes marry anew after losing a spouce" Eomer had commented casually, looking in direction of the very young queen of Gondor "but I thought that was not the way of the dunedain?

"Not generally" Aragorn replied, clearly taking little or no offence at the question being asked "elves never remarry, as their bond is eternal, so it is tradition really. Of course, in my case, the rather more practical question of the succession had to take precidence over that preference".

"You married very young, is that not true, sure?" Faramir asked, recieving eyerolls from everyone but Aragorn, Gilraen and Arwen at his ceremony. "Aragorn, in private, please, Faramir, but yes. I was not out of my early twenties. Of course, as my wife died with only the twins having been born to our marriage, there was still some nerves..."

"It was calm for some time though" Gilraen remembered. "Then, as..." "As Arathorn the third was of little moral fibre and had many affairs, but failed to marry and didn't even sire children out of wedlock, which really was a miracle" Arandura cut in, not as sensitive to speaking well of people she didn't like as the Queen mother "rumours started that he was barren. He wasn't exactly of a character to lead the people or lend them hope, either". "Well, his sister did that" Aragorn replied calmly, giving his eldest an affectionate look. "Anyway, I remarried. We had a son the following year".

Arion was the one to take up the tale, speaking as frankly as the rest, as they were in private company, even the servants not in the room at the moment "after me, though, they had only daughters, and then there was Eowyn Alasse being born, to another man. The elves are certain I am my father's son, but there will always be rumours".

"Indeed" Anoriel nodded "but they were only rumours, and Arathorn married at last, though there were no children at first" "Then Aramir was born" Arwen cut in "and everyone was reasonable pleased for a while. What came next, Arion's injury or Elena's death?" "Aramir's mother" Aragorn said in explanation at that name. "It was Arathorn's banishment, I think" Araniel decided.

Faramir frowned, looking to Aragorn with a bevildered expression "your son was banished? Whatever for?" This question, no one seemed to want to answer. Smiling slightly, it was Aramir who answered it. "When I was four or five, grandfather walked in on him beating me. He tossed him out of the room - and I mean literally - and banished him from his house. Not physically from the house in the angle, I don't think" "No" Aragorn supplied "that would have gotten him killed". "Right. But he was no longer allowed in Rivendell, where I lived at the time" Aramir finished the story.

"My third wife died at childbirth with the twins four years ago" Aragorn added after a moment, mostly to deflect the attention away from his grandson "and I married Tari two, soon three years ago, now. It is a long story".

"Not that long" Tari said with a shrug. "My story is rather simple. My parents are low nobles obsessed with marrying into the royal family, I mean, my name. Seriously? I, however, chose to run away and fight with the lordesses instead".

Eomer raised an eyebrow, but now Arion took up what seemed to be an entirely different story. "Years back, one of our larger villages were found by the enemy. They sent an army to destroy it, but they sent the black riders in advance, before our forces could get there to defend them. All that was between innocents and that terrible foe was one, solitary warrior woman and fighter" he looked at his stepmother with admiration "Tari was eighteen years old at the time".

"Turns out they do not really like fire" her face showed grim determination just at the thought "any time I could buy..." "She didn't though" Aradora's smile was also grim, but proud "she sent them running back to their forces and we got there in time".

"We found her on our way" Aragorn noted softly "most of her insides were on the outside. Elrond was the only reason she even survived. I met her eight months later in the angle. Her family were upset that she'd lost her chance to become a queen by what they thought of as stupidity, and treated her poorly. Not that I ever would have married her back then, she was far too young. I took her back to Rivendell. Somewhat later, they demanded her back. My wife had been dead for over a year at that point and I had several" Araion laughed "try about sixty" "several". The king stressed "outstanding offers for her from her father, so I decided to marry her".

"How come you had never accepted before then? Because she was too young?" Eowyn wanted to know "do the maths" Tari offered "I am younger than Eowyn Alasse. Aragorn married me when he did to protect me only. He treats me as he does his ward. I am grateful for his protection, and his help with my wounds". "His last wife was young enough" Elvea added "she was roughly my age. I remember feeling sorry for him". "She died in childbirth though, because she refused care" Arwen added softly.

"Why was all your wives such idiots, pup?" Arandora demanded and shook her head in disdain. "Those are the women who will accept an arranged marriage" Anoriel decided, and her husband reached out a hand to calm her. After that, conversation turned to lighter topics, mostly the two marriages that was to take place in the spring, between Faramir and Eowyn, and Eomer and Arwen Aragorniel.

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Three granddaughters at six years, four years and less than a year by Anoriel and Elvea._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Two twins, four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	13. Chapter 12

_Eomer's proposal to Arwen has not yet been formally announced and someone generally in with the gossip but out of the loop of anything important, like Lothiriel, would not know about it. It would spread to gossip eventually, but less than a week is not enough as the circle knowing is so small._

_I do not claim to own LotR. I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter. Like, the fifth one in three days. Sorry about that..._

_This chapter is some fluff, because I don't know about you, but if I have to remember more names, I will _explode_. We need a break from that for a bit._

_TapTap_

Lothiriel preparred for the ball with eager anticipation. That unspeakably annoying northern "princess" would be there, of course, but Lothiriel had been there first. She was so _innocent_, what with her spread hair like a child and her simple dresses and discrete little jewels. No, Lothiriel could outshine her. Oh yes.

Chosing an expensive dress in Harad silk of a gorgeous (not to mention suggestive) royal blue, Lothiriel proceeded to pick out properly sized jewelry for the evening, and rooted around her extensive closet for a cloak in velvet that exactly matched the dress. It was currently a warm day, but it would not do to come unpreparred.

What if the prince wanted a moonlit stroll in the palace gardens? That thought was exciting - Lothiriel had never been there, and she certainly was no riff-raff to be kept out. And when she'd caught the prince, they wuld become her gardens one day. She smiled victoriously, even if it was (a little) premature.

Looking at her own face in her glass (large and framed by silver, bet they didn't have that in _Arnor_) the lady of Dol Amroth critically assessed how best to show herself to her advantage. hateful as she might be, her new competition was more competition than Lothiriel had ever previously faced. And then it was that (luckily engaged) lady from rohan, and the strange not-princesses with swords, though which man who'd want them, she didn't know.

With a sigh, after finishing her preparations, and before she settled on what to do with her hair, Lothiriel went over to the window, as her thoughts drifted to her mother, how they had used to do this together, before... Lothiriel clenched her teeth at the thought of that horrible event, forcing the tears from her eyes with fierce determination. She could not cry now. It would ruin her complexion. This was more important. She raised her head. She _would_ make her mother proud.

**Six hours later**

Arwen came into her room in a flurry she'd normally associate with her sisters and dressing. As her engagement with Eomer was to be formally announced and approved by her father (he already had in private, but there was ceremony to go through) she figured it was time to get a little Rohirric. She had borrowed a piece of sun jewelry from Eowyn, and as she put on her usual undergown, she chose a simple, light dress of a rich green as her next layer, instead of her usual dark blue, black or white. Her new gerdel was decorated in the rohirric fashion - the neat, classic stitches beyond even her abilities for so short a time, but luckily her brother-in-law had volunteered his help. Elvea was as wonderful with a needle as his wife was with a sword, and quite a refreshing addition to their family after all her warlike sisters.

She had barely gotten into her dress when there was a knock at her door, Araniel entering for perhaps the last time to ask her help in dressing like a princess. Arwen had a feeling - well, it was more than a feeling, really - that the captain would be accepted into the prestigious company of the lordesses within days, now.

A visit by their grandmother, then brother in law and lastly little brothers later, Arwen took a last look in her mirror at her hair, which Gilraen had put up for her with silver hairpins, a tradition from back when she was a child, and went to join up with the rest of her family for their entrance to the ball.


	14. Chapter 13

_This chapter is a bit of a repeat of facts, but it is to sort of get things started and get the populace of Gondor up to speed. :-) Review if you like it!_

_I do not own... stuff that I don't own. Though there's so many OC's now that I'm starting to suspect I own more of this story than Tolkien does..._

_TapTap_

The ball announcing the formal start of the winter and the social season was always a great affair, but now, after a good year of crops, the defeat of evil and with a king crowned again, it was positively splendind.

This opinion was expressed in a million different ways as Gondor's nobles mingled in the feast hall of Merethrond. The hall itself looked splendid, still lit by sunlight streaming in through massive windows, but there were an almost unfanthomable amount of candles prepared to be lit after dark.

Prince Imrahil entered with his children, mingling with the rest of them. Denethor had used to be announced at these feasts, but his children had just entered. None of the king's numerous offspring - and that was still a subject open to some speculation - was in the hall though, what anyone could see.

A few minutes after the swan prince had entered, there was the stroke asking for silence, and it was announced "his royal majesty the king of Gondor and Arnor, Elessar the first of house Telcontar, with his mother, the Queen Mother Gilraen". Necks were craned to see the king, wearing a jewel set in platina on his brow instead of the crown, an older dunedan woman with white hair and wearing a dress so dark blue it was almost black, on his arm.

Then the announcers spoke again "Lordesses Arandura of Arnor, Aradora Aragornion and Anoriel Telcontar". The three women entered side by side, all wearing the white tree on their dark blue tunics, but the stars being crossed swords instead. They wore swords and little jewelry, as were the tradition (and preference) of their order.

"Princess Arwen Telcontar, with her betrothed, Eomer King of Rohan, and Faramir, prince Steward of Ithilien, with his betrothed, Eowyn the white lady of Rohan" was announced just afterwards, and the two couples entered side by side, both men looking impressive wearing their respective family seals on their tunics, and the women competing in beauty.

"Princess Araniel Telcontar" was the next one to be announced "with her brother in law, prince Steward Elvea". Araniel wore a shirt and breeches just like her older sisters, but the tree on her tunic showed the usual white tree, not that of the lordesses, and instead of having her hair loose with a braid capturing the foremost strands in the way of her sisters and father, she had jewelled pins in her hair just like her youngest sister, thought she wore them with less style and more tolerance.

By now the nobles, having had little or in some cases of new arrivals no news of what the king's family situation was, were frankly stunned. They had worried there was no heirs, but the king seemed to at any rate have a rather large family.

"Prince Steward Arion Telcontar, with his nephew, Crown prince Aramir of Gondor and Arnor" the announcer continued, making a multitude of whispers flow throughout the room. Finally, the man announced for the last time "Eowyn Alasse, ward of the king's, and Queen Tari of Gondor and Arnor" making yet another rumble of surprise go through the crowd.

At the end of the first hour, by the time everyone sat down for dinner, every name and every relation in the royal family was known to every noble in the hall, exept the circumstances of why he had a young ward, and perhaps with the exception in some cases of the name of the king's granddaughters, but including those the two younger princes, just as the king had planned; as no one any longer had any fear of the throne or sucession being secure.


	15. Chapter 14

_This chapter is mostly Lothiriel sulking some more and getting herself into an _unheard_ of world of trouble. She still hasn't realised the difference between a snow-prince and a real prince. It also shows a Lordesse ceremony. Arandura is old and has stepped down some time ago from military command, leaving that to Aradora, but she now resigns fully, retiring to the role of advisor, as she is _very old_. In earth-years, I would put her in her early _eighties_ or something ridiculous like that. She is a hardy woman!_

_It mentions "higher lordesses", which will be elaborated on later. Suffice to say for now, that there are two kinds. Only higher lordesses can lead their company. They train from very early years with the specific purpose of becoming a lordesse, cannot wed, and become lordesses as soon as they're counted as adults. Arandura and Aradora are higher lordesses. Normal lordesses are allowed husbands and become lordesses when they're considered ready, such as Araniel and Anoriel. Eagle-eyes readers will have identified Anoriel's oldest daughter as the next higher lordesse, intented to take over in due time._

_I do not own Tolkien's things, they're his. Also, I do not agree with Lothiriel's view of... anything, really, but especially women. Though that might be obvious already due to my other characters._

_TapTap_

It was before the throne, in the large audience hall after dinner, that Arwen Aragorniel and Eomer son of Eomund's bethrothal was publicly blessed and formalised, also allying the two kingdoms together, as it meant a decendant of the Gondorian king would one day sit on the throne in the Riddermark.

It was after this ceremony, on the other side of much cheering and even a few catcalls (all of the latter from Eomer's present men) that the lordesses stepped up to make their own request of their king, though it was more of a disguised announcement.

"I Araniel Telcontar, wish to join the order of the lordesses" she spoke with a clear, confident voice, smiling "I am ready". The king looked to the two higher lordesses standing next to him. By tradition, the request was made as if to him, but that was really only to keep him posted. It was not down to him to grant it. "We agree. You are welcome" Arandora replied, smiling slightly "So for the last time, I name you; Princess and Captain, Araniel Aragorniel. This will be my last ever decision for our order. I am stepping down from command, and leaving the next one to my replacement".

Aradora nodded, stepping up into the former's place. "You will remain in my council, I trust" "And in mine" the king added. Both recieved nods, just as Araniel removed the last jewelled hairpin out of her braid, handing them all over to her sister Arwen's waiting hand, and stepping down from the dais into the waiting company of her other sister, to the words of Aradora. "Welcome, Lordesse Araniel Aragornion. May you serve with us long and well!"

Lothiriel seethed. That Anorian upstart of a _princess_ was _engaged_ to the king of Rohan! They had to watch their king formalise the engagement by offering his approval after dinner, to the sound of loud cheers and applause. She hated it.

Of course, she hadn't _wanted_ to marry the king of Rohan, and who she_ really_ wanted was related to the woman anyway, but a woman's allure was about who was watching her, and with this _princess _around, not to mention other nusances such as the white lady of Rohan and all these strange lordesses, _nobody was watching_.

As dinner was over and dancing started up again, she watched her new arch-nemesis and the married-in-prince (how come he was a prince if she wasn't a princess? He wasn't the child of a king _either_!) remain at the table, both chatting with people in a charming fashion making her _hate_ them, while the crown prince got sent to bed by the king (who ended up in a politics discussion with a few of the rohirrim, her father and her cousin Faramir) and all those strange warrior-women scattered, seemingly disappearing althogether, though Lothiriel knew better. Not that she cared about them.

Just as she was sure her mood could get no fouler, ignored and mostly forgotten as she was, she spotted the king's sons. The one so charmingly nicknamed the "snow-prince" was seemingly saying goodbye to his older brother, the prince steward, who looked to be older than their father, and was missing an unflattering amount of limbs.

Slowly, and putting on her most flattering smile, Lothiriel, who had in her indignation had just a few too many sips of wine (father said she should not, but she did not care. Besides, she was lucky not to flush from alcohol, so no one would know unless she drank enough to not articulate properly) walked towards the man just as his brother left him.

Turning around, and thus spotting her immediately, her being closest to him, the prince smiled and bowed, pleasing her with his behaviour. Real manners finally, she decided, pleased as a cat who got the cream. Unlike the rest of his upstart family!

In a moment of too much courage, brought on by the wine, she kissed the man hungrily infront of the entire ballroom, compromising both herself and him, but who cared? Now the prince would have to marry her!

As the entire room went silent at the display, unthinkable under the strict Gondorian etiquette, only one thing surprised Lothiriel. Why was someone raised a prince, even in a barbaric country, pressing up against her and kissing back so eagerly, sealing her plan as if he was still entirely unaware of the net she just caught him with?


	16. Chapter 15

_This chapter is prince Imrahil being... livid, with his young daughter. I do not own lord of the rings. I only own all the lordesses running around, which is plenty!_

_Birger's name is courtesy of the TMI Fairy._

_TapTap_

"Lothiriel!" prince Imrahil's voice cut through the complete silence in the hall, sounding understandably upset. "What are you doing?!" Putting on an innocent face, Lothiriel looked up at her father, pretending upset. "Oh! I... I... I was, I don't came over me, I... I don't know why I let the prince do that!" Putting on tears, she gave a slight sob, the image of a distraught noble, innocent maiden "why did he do that, father?"

"The prince?" Imrahil looked suddenly puzzled, but Anoriel seemed to take it more in her stride, and she was who spoke next. "Well, cannot be too hard to find out which one she's talking about". "The Telcontar prince!" Lothiriel snapped back, gathering her innocent air back around her at the very last moment.

"Excellent" the lordesse replied calmly. "That excludes Lady Lothiriel's relatives" she gestured towards Imrahil, and more vaguely in Faramir's direction "and my husband, currently laying the children down. So do you mean, lady, the injured prince going to bed, his four-year-old brothers or the dead former crown prince, laying in the hallows?" "Former..?" This time, Lothiriel's reply was uncertain. And all the while, the snow prince, who was not really a prince, but a mere commander in battle, stood still, looking down, not moving under the gaze of his king, seemingly frozen. To both knowing eyes, and less knowledgable to his status, but experienced in the ways of soldiers and command, like Eomer King of the Riddermark, was was clear though, him waiting on his king's orders, not moving or speaking until called upon. And then the king did.

"I think we can exclude all of those, thank you daughter" Gondor's king replied. He spoke surely, voice not raised in the least, but almost soft, the soft-spoken manners only adding to his cloak of command. "Birger, what have you told the lady Lothiriel? Look at me, please".

Now, the man looked up readily. "I didn't tell her anything of the sort, sire" he answered almost in a rush. "And I didn't force the lady in any way, I swear to it...!" "That's alright, lad" Arandura spoke from her position at the king's right, having suddenly materialised there, seemingly. "We saw".

The king of Gondor turned to his trusted advisor "what did you see?" "She kissed him. There's no shame in a soldier kissing a pretty lady when invited to, I'd say". "I saw it too" a dunedan ranger spoke up, recieving agreeing nods from both Araniel and one of Faramir's rangers, though he seemed more reluctant to confirm it.

"That's how it started, then, and we all saw how it ended" the king decided. "Imrahil, I would recommend you see your daughter married away; we need not take the matter further. We all saw no true inpropriety happened".

"Kissing boys" the Queen spoke up from where she sat on the stairs leading up to the throne, having been joined by one of the royal family's large hounds, petting thick grey fur absentmindedly "only ever causes problems". The king smiled slightly "yes, my dear queen. Please don't even take up that interest, it would be quite inconvenient" his voice was still unbothered, soft, even fond, now.

"Maybe kissing girls would suit you better?" Araniel suggested easily to her stepmother. "Less strange an idea, but no, I think I'd rather not" she answered lightly. "She could kiss a boy" Arwen objected, laughing softly, the sound of her voice light and clear, endlessly beautiful "she could try it with her husband!". "I am many things, dear heart" the sovereign of the reunited kingdom adressed his youngest daughter, already turning back to his earlier discussion, signalling that everyone else ought to, too "but I do not think I can claim to be a boy. Not to mention, daughter dear, she is younger than my ward".

_Aragorn married Tari to protect her, and being her husband he has unrestricted acces to her bedroom, which is handy for him as a healer. She is a maiden warrior and not interested in the least, not to mention she is about four years younger than Eowyn Alasse (six or seven years younger than Arwen) and it would just be plain weird for both of them._

_TapTap_

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Three granddaughters at six years, four years and less than a year by Anoriel and Elvea._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Two twins, four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora (hung out with Tari in this chapter)_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	17. Chapter 16

_I was intrigued to see the different - and completely opposite - reviews I got for the last chapter! In the words of the Scarlet pimpernel, though: "I'd never deprive you of your moment of triumpth - alas - a moment was all I could spare". Some of you will be relieved at this chapter; some will be the opposite. And that in itself will be opposite to the opinions on the last chapter, I suspect._

_To refreshen memory: the royal family keeps several large wolf-hounds, and the most majestic of them all belongs to the king, answering to the name of Elendil. You need to remember that specifically in this chapter, or you will believe I have gone insane!_

_TapTap_

It was early in the morning, but the king had been up for well over a mark, when the prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth asked for a private audience. It was granted gracefully, and without a wait, unlike what had been Denethor's habit.

"Your majesty" the prince bowed lightly to the king, and he nodded in greeting, gesturing for Imrahil to sit down before the desk, putting the scroll he had been reading down. Elendil, meanwhile, had raised his head from a rug in the corner, but put it down again and went back to napping.

"Imrahil. What brings you here so early in the morning?" "I hope I am not disturbing you?" Imrahil answered politely, but Aragorn smiled in reply. "Not in the least. We rise early in Arnor; and old habits die hard. All my children as well as my brother king has already been to see me. Your nephew, too. I guess we have rising with the sun in our bones, old rangers. Perhaps you do too". He smiled kindly.

"Not quite. We tend to sleep slightly longer in Dol Amroth, at least in peace such as now. But there is the... disturbing implications, left over from last night". "Ah, yes. Your daughter". Aragorn responded and gestured for his friend to continue. "I am sure..." Imrahil stated, very tense and on edge "you are aware of the implications of her actions last night. I am grateful for your words at the time, but..." "People stopped talking" the king agreed "they will not for long".

"They talk of you and the queen, instead..." the prince tested the waters. The king responded calmly. "Tari... is a warrior, and not interested in being a mother, wife... lover. I am through with marrying and having children: much as I love being a father, the time has come for being a grandfather, even a great grandfather, give it a few more years. Tari makes any talk of a new wife inpossible, and her status allows her to continue with her miltary career, though too injured to stay on the field, and too young to teach. She is a competent advisor, and a childhood friend of my daughters, especially Ariel".

"It is no business of mine" Imrahil hastened to reassure. "Nor is your daughters'... unusual... ways. But my daughter will not..." "she has a sizeable dovary. I am sure you'll find a younger son of some noble happy to move to Dol Amroth" the king cut in gently. He had a good idea what the prince was thinking, and he also knew it to be a bad idea. "That is not the way of the Swan Princes" Imrahil cut off abruptly, only to pause and hastily add "your majesty". The king waved it off.

"Who is he?" Imrahil staterd in a more polite tone. "Birger? He is the 'snowprince'" Aragorn explained. "The master of a small holding way in the north. A soldier, with lineage tracing back to the town of Dale; he is not of Numenorian blood. He wouldn't suit your daughter". "It is the right..." Imrahil cut him off again, the usually calm and collected man upset enough to be impolite to the king.

"Imrahil" Aragorn cut in, politely, but his voice firm. "Lothiriel wouldn't suit. Now, Birger would marry her if I called him in now and told him to rectify this; he would happily accept, she is a beautiful woman, but his wife will have an entirely other set of duties from what a lady of Dol Amroth would expect. It is a small holding, many soldiers, and cold. Lothiriel was not raised for such a life. Find someone suitable to sweep it under the rug, and let it go. She made a mistake, it is not enough for a life sentence, Imrahil. Especially at her age".

"It is meant to be done right" the prince argued. "We will never live it down. He is _your_ man, make him..." "I would not" Aragorn replied calmly "But ask him, if you think that is the only way. But Imrahil? You will come to regret it, as will your daughter". Seeing the other man was not going to back down, Aragorn made one final attempt. "Their laws and her duties as a wife would be very different from the norm in Dol Amroth, Imrahil. She would be required to raise her own children, without a nursemaid, and their holding is small, she'd have no apartment of her own".

"She chose herself" Imrahil merely stated, and Aragorn had a page go find Birger, sure the man would be long risen by now.

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Three granddaughters at six years, four years and less than a year by Anoriel and Elvea._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Two twins, four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	18. Chapter 17

_This features the preparations for a second ball (it is the beginning of the winter season as everyone is returning to Minas Tirith, so several of those are par for the cause), this one held in honour of Eomer and Eowyn as they have to go back home for the winter._

_I hope you will enjoy this new chapter, and I would love it if you would review. How many of you who started reading this when it was originally posted, a year and a half ago, are still with us?_

_TapTap_

It had been just over a week since the Scandal that everyone talked about. For a while, most nobles had been far more concerned about the information that the king's marriage was unconsumated and thus could still be negotiated, should he only wish it. This was very exciting news to everyone; from maidens to just about anyone with a daughter or closer relative in marriageable age. Conversation had promptly left this subject and returned to the scandal, however, as it soon became very clear that the king did not, in fact, wish to.

That lady Lothiriel had kissed one of their sovereign's military leaders in front of everybody in the middle of a ball was an unprecidented level of gossipworthy subject for idle conversation. It was discussed not only by young ladies and their mothers over their embroidery work, but by many others who would would be far less ready to admit to the subject of their talks; even some castle guards trying to will away time.

There were other things than gossip happening, as the sixth circle was finally filled with nobles again. A large amount of meetings, most of them within closed doors, were held between the two kings, as Eomer would have to leave before there was any risk of snow cutting him off from his home in Edoras.

The king of Rohan was also spending time with princess Arwen, much like his sister did with prince Faramir. Prince Imrahil had started to plan for a wedding, even though Gondorian traditions held that the engagement period ought to be quite long, leaving the wedding to be performed at spring or later.

Lothiriel, confined to her room for the entire period, was half sulking, half waiting for her father's ire to die down. He had told her, on the evening after the ball, that she was expected to marry some northern general or something, but she hadn't payed much heed to it.

She had always managed to soften her father's anger before, and her father always let her get away with things in the end. She was not worried. No, what worried Lothiriel was whether her father would let her come to the next grand ball, meant as a send-off for the king of Rohan and his sister as they preparred to go back home before the snow came.

Everyone would be there, did her father not understand that? She needed to speak to her friends, turn events to her favour so she wouldn't lose face before the other unmarried ladies at court! It was bad enough that that upstart northern princess had come along to undermine her, now her own father had to try his hand at it, too? Well, she couldn't have it. She had been the foremost young lady of Gondor for years and neither arrival the arrival of some scruffy northeners from Arnor and Rohan, nor her father's ridicolous notions were going to stop her from continuing to have people flocking around her at any occasion.

* * *

Arwen looked up from her writing to friends back home at a knock on her door. She had been busy ever since her arrival, many weeks ago now, as the household hadn't had a woman running it for years and the war had left everything in a bit of a mess. When her brother-in-law had arrived, Elvea had taken over most of the day-to-day running of the Citadel, freeing up a bit of her time.

Even so, she still had her wedding to plan for, and she had promised Eowyn to help Faramir with their house in Ithilien while the White Lady spent the winter with her brother in Edoras.

She had to think of her dress, as well, and Elvea had promised his help as a master embroider not only to her, but to Eowyn as well. With a smile, as her guest entered, she wondered if Lothiriel would ask him, as well. Probably not, she concluded.

"Faramir" she greeted the man who stood in her doorway, hesitating to enter further. "Please come in. What can I do for you?" "I had a question about your younger half-brothers" the Steward admitted, smiling at her. "The two younger princes will need tutors, and I intent to manage it, same as with your older nephew. Now In Gondor, their mother - or in this case, their aunt - would be the lady to consult about the process, but in your family..." Arwen laughed softly, gesturing for the prince to sit. "Are a bit unusual that way".

"Quite so. So I decided to at least ask you who I it is I ought to talk to" Faramir smiled at her in his amiable way. "It is Elvea who sually handles the children. He is filling the position of queen, in a way" Arwen noted. Faramir chuckled at that. "Just wait until the courtiers realise he is actually living in the "queen's suite", that will start some speculation" he noted idly, clearly seeing the practicality of someone who was helping to raise the king's children living in the chambers adjacent to their nursery.

"Well, Tari will want to live somewhere a bit more practical, with the rest of the Lordesses" Arwen noted easily, smiling "including my sister, for the most part, and it isn't as if the rooms are connected by more than one door, or even that two men with military training would be shocked at coming across one another in less than stellar condition".

"No, it is not" Faramir agreed, though with some surprise. "Elvea used to be military? I mean, he doesn't quite seem..." "like the type? Nor do you, yourself, Faramir". As the prince steward nodded in agreement with that, the princess, soon to be queen, continued. "Much like you, he did what he had to do. He is a very skilled archer, trained much like myself. He willingly gave it up when marrying a Lordesse, and have been on hand for raising not only his own daughters but Kitten and the twins, ever since. He enjoys the domestic aspect of that, and my sistes does not".

"He seems to be doing a good job. With running the king's household, now, too" Faramir noted with what Arwen could only conclude to be approval. "He is" Arwen replied, smiling kindly back at him "how is Eowyn?" This brought forth a much larger smile on the man's face. "She's perfect. I will miss her when she goes. How about yourself? You and Eomer get along well, I take it?"

"We are. I look forward to living with him in the Mark. As my sisters might have told you, I do have a thing for stars, snow and horses, and they have plenty of all those things there!" "I wish you happiness, then" Faramir concluded sincerely, rising. "Same to you" Arwen said just as honestly. "And good luck with your home in Ithilien". With a heartfelt thank you, Faramir left her to smile at her own thoughts.

_So, I ought to clarify, that while some Gondorian nobles might rebell at the break of tradition it is to place Elvea in what used to be the Queen's rooms, this is a purely practical arrangement. That way Aragorn has his children close, and there's enough space in the Royal nursery for Elvea to keep both the twins and his own three children close, as one of his daughters is still an infant and needs him, especially as his wife will be away from them with great frequency due to her duties as a Lordesse.._

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Please note that his mother Gilraen is alive in this story, as she mostly succumbed to grief, and it my belief that in this world, with plenty of grandchildren and even a few great grandchilden to please and distract her, she would not have faded._

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse (old family friend, cousin of Aragorn's grandfather Arador)_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Three granddaughters at six years, four years and less than a year by Anoriel and Elvea._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Two twins, four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	19. Chapter 18

_I sensed a bit of confusion about the family relationships in the last chapter, so I thought I could clarify it a bit, and indulge myself with some Aragorn in the nursery, at the same time. He strikes me as a parent who wouldn't give his children away to someone else to raise, not if he wasn't strictly forced to by a war, anyway, and I am certain all his children adore him._

_I do not own Lord of the Rings, I am just experimenting._

_TapTap_

Aragorn smiled over his papers as he heard the knock. "Come in!" He called out, putting down his quill. He had retired to his own quarters early, as there would be a ball that evening. Normally he would not let anyone in, as he was dressed only in his breeches and a shirt, with no tunic and not even shoes on, but it was the adjoining door, so it had to be his son-in-law.

A moment later indeed revealed Elvea, standing under the arc of the doorway, dressed as impeccably as only he was capable of while dealing with five small children. He had help, of course, but he had always preferred a hands-on style of parenting, much as Aragorn did himself.

"Estel wants you, he cannot sleep" Elvea stood there calmly, studying the finely crafted wood with a degree of sceptisism. "You know, this is all terribly convenient _now_, but the Gondorians are _strange_, aren't they?

Aragorn laughed, capping his ink and rising. "Many Gondorian nobles have arranged marriages, so it is not as otherworldly as it might seem to us that the rooms are separate". "Still" Elvea shook his head, moving aside so Aragorn could enter. "Faramir implied that some of them might find this arrangement inproper. What is the worst that could possibly happen? That one of us might walk in on the other without a shirt? We're both men!" He paused in his rant to enter one of the rooms, answering to a sound most wouldn't have heard, and Aragorn went to look in on the other children.

Before he could, Estel came crashing into him, and he lifted his youngest son into his arms, bringing him as he looked in on the other children. Estel's older twin, Eldarion, was sleeping soundly along with who was technically his niece, though they were almost perfectly at an age. Anna, his daughter's oldest, was also sleeping as peacefully, in the next room. Aragorn had just left her door lightly ajar behind him when Elvea came back, his youngest daughter in a firm grasp.

"Someone is already awake again, I see" the king noted idly, his son already half asleep against his chest. Estel could be stubborn in that way, refusing to sleep until he was with his father, and then dropping right off as soon as Aragorn came to hold him. Now that he was within reach to come and put him to bed every night, it was almost convenient. He knew that Elvea and Arwen had struggled with it, when he wasn't there.

"Well, babies do that. It is a perfect excuse to miss balls" Elvea answered with a smile, moving slightly to soothe the blanket-covered baby in his arms. "Miriel is a wonderful little one though, she almost never screams". "She never screams because she has a wonderful father who can read her thoughts" Aragorn replied, leaning against the wall slightly, still holding his son even though he could probably get away with putting him to bed now. "I am glad you want to continue to help raise mine. You are good with them, you always have been".

"You only did what you had to do, Aragorn" Elvea's voice was very decided. "And I understand you still have many demands on your time. So will they, when they are older. Meantime, you are an excellent father, and I will always be here to look after them when you have to be somewhere else, to protect or just care for all of us". "Thank you". Aragorn moved to put his son with his brother and Calaiel, the three children of an age sharing.

After he had tucked all three of them in - though two of them didn't strictly need it, he liked to - he walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar. "She is very fond of her cousins" he noted, perferring to call the children of an age cousins instead, Elvea following him back into the king's suite, not to disturb the four sleeping children.

"Yes, I rather think she thinks she's a twin, too" the younger man noted, still jiggling a little for the baby's benefit. Some annoyance entered his voice, even though he kept his tone soft because of the baby. "I suppose the Gondorians will protest at boys and a girl sharing a bedroom, too, soon enough". "You need not tell them" Aragorn sat down, gesturing to his son-in-law to do the same if he pleased.

"I shall not. Sometimes the nonsence in the household annoys me, and all the traditions they hold as law" Elvea said with a very soft sigh. "Anyone who protests at two men having adjoined chambers must have too much time on their hands. Even beside that, we are related. Not by blood, of course, but then if you'd ask me, I'd say you'd forgotten that at least a decade ago!"

Aragorn chuckled, on purpose keeping it soft not to wake his youngest grandchild, who by the looks of things had fallen back asleep. "I have not forgotten. I would not be so pleased at you being married with my daughter if I had". Now it was Elvea's turn to chuckle, as he made himself comfortable in one of the soft chairs, next to his father-in-law.

"Good point". He stretched out his long legs and shook his head. "Where are our wives, anyway, do you know?" Aragorn shook his head in return, pouring two glasses of wine, sliding one over to the younger man's side of the table. "No. I can make a guess at where yours is, but for mine, she has been utterly unpredictable ever since she was injured. She was as dedicated to her path as the Lordesses, though she isn't one, secure in her purpose, and thus without it she is lost..."

"Do you ever wonder if she was not meant to survive that night?" Elvea asked, taking a careful sip of the wine, adjusting his sleeping daughter. She slept peacefully now, but would likely wake the moment he tried to put her down. He didn't mind holding her, anyway, so attempting it would be useless.

"No one of eighteen years is meant to die, child" Aragorn answered gently "and she did not need to, so I could never allow it". Elvea nodded, giving a sigh and closing his eyes for a moment. He did not need them, though, to know that Aragorn watched him with some concern. "A trying day?" The king asked as the prince opened his eyes again.

"Not really, but between trying to find sensible help with the children and settling the household along with Arwen, and then organising three royal weddings, if you count Lothiriel's, I am starting to feel a little too... old for this". Aragorn smiled. "Ask Faramir for help with who to pick. He is good with reading hearts, and he knows his people. You do get along, I hope?"

"With Faramir?" Ignoring how attentively his king watched him, knowing it was born out of caring and not a desire to judge, Elvea nodded at his nod of affirmation, taking another small sip of wine. "I do. I find many other nobles a challenge, but him I like. As for the rest, they will realise soon enough that they really shouldn't look down on me for being a man who likes embroidery, or else risk offending the Lordesses". Aragorn kept his laughter quiet, but did not bother to hide it. "Yes, they have taken that personal in the past".

"Well, someone has to sow in this family, especially with Arwen marrying Eomer, and I do not see how it differs from my wife wielding a sword more than she does" Elvea put his goblet down and yawned. "I cannot see that it does either" Aragorn assured him, smiling. "Besides, _we_ know that it was only by choise. You could have remained a soldier, easily".

"I prefer nurturing new life, instead of extinguishing it" Elvea noted, and he did not need a verbal reply to know that Aragorn understood him well.

_To Anthi, and whoever else might be interested: I hope this answers some of your questions! Before you ask, yes, there is a reason Elvea is titled as a prince. Partly it actually is because his wife is a Lordesse: that takes out all other titles so she isn't addressed as a princess, and so her title passes to her husband. It also is because Aragorn said he is one, and he is the king, so he can obviously decide that - he does the same with Faramir, after all!_

_TapTap_

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Please note that his mother Gilraen is alive in this story, as she mostly succumbed to grief, and it my belief that in this world, with plenty of grandchildren and even a few great grandchilden to please and distract her, she would not have faded._

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse (old family friend, cousin of Aragorn's grandfather Arador)_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Anna. Anoriel and Elvea's oldest daughter. About six years old._

_Calaiel. Daughter of Anoriel and Elvea. At an age with Aragorn's youngest sons, almost to the day._

_Miriel. Anoriel and Elvea's baby daughter._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Estel and Eldarion, twins at four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	20. Chapter 19

_Here comes the actual ball we've been waiting for for ages now! This is a bonus chapter, as I aim to update this tale punctually on the first of January as well. Happy Christmas!_

_I do not own the Lord of the Rings, I just work here._

_TapTap_

The ball was splendid. Just as splendid as the last one, in fact. For this ball, the lordesses had all entered silently, not bothering with an announcement, and by the time her husband had arrived, so had the queen, silently appearing with the other warrior women.

The king had been announced escorting his mother, once again, and his daughter Arwen with her husband-to-be, the king of Rohan. Like on the last ball, Faramir and Eowyn were announded with the other royal pair of spouces-to-be. The two princes Elvea and Arion arrived together, while neither their nephew or the king's ward were present this time.

Someone who was present, out in society for the first time since the scandal, was Lady Lothiriel. She was not, however, the talk of the town on this occasion. Not quite as much as she'd like, anyway, and not for any desirable reasons like her jewelry, beauty or grace.

Instead, focus of both men and women fell increasinhly on a new lady. Her looks were decidedly Numenorian, more so than Lothiriel's even, which with her royal blood and rmoured elvish ancestry was quite the achievement. In a way, she reminded many of Princess Arwen, but a decided difference made making this connection difficult.

The princess was always understated, tonight wearing a decidedly elegant and no doubt costly, but understated dress and discrete, delicate jewelry which brought out her beauty in a flattering manner. Lothiriel, of course, typically wore a more obviously rich and alluring dress, and more obvious and simply large jewels.

This lady, if she was a lady, and most assumed that she simply had to be, was decidedly beautiful, and whatever ideals Eowyn and Arwen migth share on simplicity, she did not pray at the same altar. She wore her jewels openly, though with such taste and judgement it was not over the line to ostantatious.

Her dress was grand, her hair pinned with excuisite grace and skill, and she bore her deep, almost royal purple dress with calm but absolute assurance. She was social and graceful, too, with a pretty laughter and an even prettier smile. Most of the men of arms, however, found her a bit too frivolous to truly enjoy her company.

Even Eomer, who had learnt to appreciate the more delicate members of the opposite sex after a few too many skillful right hooks by his sister in their adolecent years, found her a bit tedious with her talk about silks and jewels. It did not help wither, perhaps, that she flirted with the man mercilessly. Arwen was not seen in that part of the hall at all, and she was assumed to be busy. For all that most dismissed her as frivolous and possibly emothyheaded, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth recognised her as more serious competition than any of the princesses.

It was just before dinner that her paths first crossed with the king of Gondor, and she courtsied delicately, neck bowed, the very image of feminine grace and manners. She then looked up, her face decidedly changed, and breaths were she going to flirt with the other sovereign as shamelessly? Who was this girl. All these whispers ended as she suddenly threw herself around the neck of Elessar. While this surprised most of court, however, it clearly did not surprise him, as he did not need to even shift his stance.

"Oh" she whispered breathlessly, but it was loud enough for all to hear in the sudden silence. "I was so worried when I heard you'd gone to war - I would have come but I was hunting orcs in the Misty Mountains and did not hear of it!" She broke her hug slightly, pulling away a fracton to look at him. "Oh, father, I have missed you terribly".

The soverign of the reunited kingdom smiled back warmly. "So did I, dear child. Are you well? I did not hear of your return!" "I am sorry for coming so late in the day" she answered, her graceful, sofr voice back in place as if it had never been gone "I did only have time to drop in on Aramir before he went to bed. He did take a look at my ribs though and I thought he'd have a heart attack for all of his youth, so you should perhaps not enquire more about my health". She smiled brightly, finally taking a step away, while the king looked pained.

"Ariel... ribs must heal _properly_. If they start to knit together out of order, they have to be re-broken and I don't think..." "I will not break healed bones just to align them" she contered, cutting the king short. "They work perfertly fine even though they're a bit unusual in shape. Try not to worry so much!"

Shaking his head, the king turned to the surprised men at his side. "Eomer, Faramir, Imrahil - meet my second youngest daughter, Ariel Telcontar. Ariel, this is Faramir, my Steward and the prince of Ithilien, Imrahil, prince of Dol Amroth, and Eomer King, ruler of our neighbours in the Riddermark". This was met by yet another perfect, delicate curtesy, every possible rule for conduct faultlessly followed. "It is an honour to meet you, gentlemen, and your majesty". The men answered in turn, trying to hide their bafflement.

"Does that mean you're done testing my fiance's loyalty now, dear sister?" Princess Arwen's voice suddenly took up, as she stepped up to her father's side. "Oh, In was done ages ago, dear little sister" princess Ariel answered coyly "he is just so handsome". "Well, there's plenty of other blond riders who came with him if you're interested, the youngest sister suggested, somewhat dryly, but with a smile.

"Do try not to kill any of them" prince Arion suddenly added, coming up behind her, only to be greeted with a hug as she turned. "But brother, you've lost a hand! She shook her head, still delicate "that is it, now you'll leave fighting to us!"

"Don't worry, he has" this time, it was Elvea. He was greeted with a hug of his own, the princess seemingly entirely unconcerned that she was being watched by almost everyone but her father and his company, who had turned and were talking of other matters. There was nothing untoward in greeting your brothers, after all. "Well, look at you, beautiful and whole still! I guess you knew when to quit" she told the prince steward, the two heading more to the edge of the room to continue the conversation, as was seemly. Not that it stopped anyone from trying to listen in.

"How are the 'triplets'?" she joked softly, always a picture of grace. "Still thriving?" "Oh, yes" her brother-in-law assured her in his own, downstated way. "And you have gotten a new niece during your absence, as well". Her look of delight spoke for itself. "Oh, you must take me to meet her first thing in the morning! Now, tell me, how can I help you in the household?"

This was when most everyone had lost interest in the adopted siblings' conversation, and they were allowed to make their way to the head table without interruptions. It seemed they had finally met all members of the royal family.

_And this, I am delighted to tell you, is the last of the OOC introductions! Aren't you thrilled? Ariel's being and apparence is inspired by Heather Dale's song "One of Us", which I do not mean any copyright infringement of, especially the line "She was ladylike and lively - not the type you would expect"._

_I hope you enjoy and happy Christmas!_

_TapTap_

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Please note that his mother Gilraen is alive in this story, as she mostly succumbed to grief, and it my belief that in this world, with plenty of grandchildren and even a few great grandchilden to please and distract her, she would not have faded._

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse (old family friend, cousin of Aragorn's grandfather Arador)_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Anna. Anoriel and Elvea's oldest daughter. About six years old._

_Calaiel. Daughter of Anoriel and Elvea. At an age with Aragorn's youngest sons, almost to the day._

_Miriel. Anoriel and Elvea's baby daughter._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Estel and Eldarion, twins at four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	21. Chapter 20

_I do not own the Lord of the Rings, I just work here._

_Happy New Year everybody! (It has come to my attention that the last update didn't include any actual updating, so this wish is now a little (VERY) late. Still heartfelt, though!)_

_Sorry about the irregularity of updates for this story. I have a lot of WIPs right now and as the most labour intense story, this one gets put on the back-burner. Sorry about that!_

_TapTap_

It was a very busy morning in the Citadel. It had been half a year since the new rule, and quite a few months since Arwen Telcontar had taken over the running of the household, so it was all far less disjointed than it had been during the time of Denethor, who had been very disinterested in having someone take over the running of household matter already after the death of his wife Findulas many years earlier.

The royals were all settled into rooms which had been fully furnished by now, even the ones which hadn't been used for a long time, but even though Elvea had showed foresight in that another princess would show up, there had been a bit of surprise amongst the servants. Even more so, as the second youngest daughter of the king turned to be more alike a second Lady Lothiriel than she was alike her sisters.

Where the lordesses managed well on their own, living in a military way which reminded the Gondorians about Boromir (as they quickly forgot he had a tendency to like the extravangant, when he had the opportunity, in their idealistic worship of his skills) and Princess Arwen had brought her own maid from Arnor, the second youngest daughter of the king was the only one requiring a Gondorian ladies-maid.

Said ladies-maid was promptly picked, lectured by the Gondorian housekeeper about manners, and then thoroughly scandalised the very first morning when she came to dress her new mistress and found one of king Eomer's soldiers sleeping naked in her bed. It was impossible to say whether it made for more or less of s scandal that he was entirely alone - the bed's owner already having made for the training grounds, no help from her ladies' maid required this day, apparently.

Naturally, this was brought to the king's attention right at the end of council by a terribly embaressed chief of staff. Puzzled, the king turned to Eomer, who alongside Faramir was the only other two left in the council room with him. "That can simply not be right" he explained softly. "Eomer was with me in my study after first light, not in my daughter's bed. I am sure both him and his fiancee knows better, besides that".

The chief of staff, even more embaressed, shook his head. "Not your youngest, sire, the _second_ youngest. With a rohirric _soldier_...!" The king looked as if a great mystery had been unveiled. "Oh, _Ariel_. That doesn't surprise me. Well, handle it as discreetely as possible and I'll have a word with my daughter".

As the man, shellshocked, had left the room, Faramir looked between the other two men with some surprise. "Is that customary behaviour for gentle-bred maidens in Arnor? Or Rohan?" He added the later question after a second, directed at his brother-in-law-to-be. "Not at all" it was Aragorn who replied, turning to gather the the papers he had recieved from a lord about some details he had previously requested. Denethor had left such matters to his secretary, but Aragorn was ever hands-on with such things. "And as for lordesses, even less so, even if they're maybe not exactly gentle-bred". Eomer chuckled. "But no one has named my second-youngest, or indeed her sister, mother-of-three, a maiden for quite some time.

"Well, no, but your other daughter is married!" Faramir objected "and surely the rest or them are..." he coughed. Eomer withheld a laugh. "Aradora is a high-lordess and as such has nothing to spare for men" Aragorn confirmed within a second. "And as for her younger sisters, Arwen _is_ in every inch a gently-bred maiden, and though the lordesses not in command may marry, only one has done so for several generations. Ariel, however, is not one, and she wed years ago" Aragorn turned to look Faramir in the eye with a sigh. "She was widdowed a while back, and while she has not remarried, widows do have more leway than maidens, do they not? She needs be more discreet, here, I'd say, but..." he shrugged, mind clearly still trailed on a son-in-law he must have loved as a son, and lost, only to be mourned as a son also. "Oh" was all Faramir could offer in reply.

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Please note that his mother Gilraen is alive in this story, as she mostly succumbed to grief, and it my belief that in this world, with plenty of grandchildren and even a few great grandchilden to please and distract her, she would not have faded._

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse (old family friend, cousin of Aragorn's grandfather Arador)_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one running around fighting orcs far away._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Anna. Anoriel and Elvea's oldest daughter. About six years old._

_Calaiel. Daughter of Anoriel and Elvea. At an age with Aragorn's youngest sons, almost to the day._

_Miriel. Anoriel and Elvea's baby daughter._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

_Halion. Late first husband of Ariel. Was a ranger._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Estel and Eldarion, twins at four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Random dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


	22. Chapter 21

_Look, it is a new chapter! Having finished five stories the last three months, the WIP situation is starting to look a little less chaotic, so with some luck first of the month updates should now go back to normal!_

_This chapter is a bit of an intermission, giving us all a little bit of added time with the characters so you can learn who they really are._

_I am not the Tolkien estate, and I claim no ownership of anything but my own cooky OOC's._

_TapTap_

It was a quiet evening after council. A few lucky nobles had been invited to what was in essense a quiet family dinner, in comparison to the ball previously in the week. Denethor had often invited many nobles to have dinner in the Citadel, but the new king seemed more inclined to eat with his family in the evenings.

Except the royal family - including as it was not a formal occasion, several half-grown children - Faramir was of course invited, his fiance and her brother, the king of Rohan and also bethrothed to the Gondorian king's youngest daughter. Prince Imrahil and all four of his children were also present, as well as his youngest's husband-to-be, Birger of the north.

Also there, to the great consternation of all of his older brothers, none of which had been sent for, was Geoffrey, who was placed next to the crown Prince. Geo had slipped up mid-meal and called his friend "kitten," which had made all the Gondorians around the table (not including Faramir) titter - until they all realised that none of the northerners reacted in the least. It had not been even five minutes later that one of the high lordesses had used the exact same word without thought. These Arnornians were certainly less formal, more than one honorable Gondorian matron decided.

Now, after supper, the informal gathering had broken up into groups, arranged in the comfortable smaller after-dinner hall. The king of Rohan was having a very passionate discussion by the window with most of the lordesses, speaking in rohirric, while one of the older riders who was present was having a much more subdued discussion with the king's ward, Eowyn Alasse, also in rohirric. Though the pair was technically sitting next to one another at a loveseat, it could not be more clear that they were having a very different sort of discussion entirely. Eowyn, who was talking household matters with Arwen, had casually explained to her fiance Faramir, loud enough for anyone curious to hear, that the first discussion was about battleplans, and the latter about horses. This surprised nobody, not even the Gondorians.

Imrahil, still visibly upset about the dishonour his daughter had brought upon his house of late, had tried to engage the king in conversation, but Elessar had left shortly after the meal with his son-in-law to put the younger children to bed. Many of the northerners and most of the rohirrim snickeres slightly at the swan prince's surprise at this behaviour.

Once the king and prince returned, the king joined his grandson and Geo with all the dogs on the massive hearthrug, seemingly telling the two boys a story, but one less suitable for children and with more of the blood to engage to teenage boys, while Elvea joined Arwen and Eowyn, a half-made piece of embroidery in his lap, as he apparently asked them both for details on the wedding dresses he, the master embroider, had promised to make them both for their weddings the following spring and summer.

Faramir was keeping up tradition a bit more, sitting in one of the seating groups in the room and gamely discussing politics with his uncle and every other oldfashion man in the room. His cousins, the three sons of the swan princes, joined him with various degrees of adaptation, until an hour or so into the evening, when Ecthelion and Amroth went and joined the two younger boys by the fire, when the king started telling a new story. Their older brother game them an incredulous stare, but the king merely made one of the dogs shift to give them room.

Lothiriel was back to her finest form, holding court of a fashion for all the young gondorian women present, looking resplendant and bragging about what a lovely wedding they would hold in early spring in Dol Amroth, making it seem like an excotic northen tradition instead of Birger not being able to hold off from chosing a wifefor longer than over the winter, due to the snow prince tradition of marrying very young.

Birger himself was sitting with Ariel, speaking in northen dialect with the princess, who looked incredibly princess-like and dignified, finally making the ladies around Lothiriel decide that maybe they should be gathered around her instead. Once they'd decided that and moved to sit with her instead, Birger came to talk to Lothiriel, but now that things were settled and missunderstandings cleared out, neither really enjoyed the company of the other and they quickly grew silent.

"And that was how, the Nazguls ran from the elflord Glorfindel, and he forsaw that it was a woman, who would defeat the witchking in the end." The king finished his story, to the knowing smile of his grandson, who had heard the tale before, Geo's wide-eyed astonishment and the clear delight of Imrahil's two younger sons.

Letting the four younger men digest the story, the king scratched Elendil's ears and let the large hound shift his head into his lap. "Birger looks bored, and so does your sister," Kitten suddenly told Amrothos and Echirion in a light tone. Amrothos blushed, but Echirion's smile was a little wry. "Lothi might not have made the best decision there," he admitted.

"No, but your father is very traditional. Which is good of him, but in this instance it might be easier not to be quite so certain," the king noted dipliomatically, "I understand acting on honour," "better than anyone, I'd say," Aramir chipped in, but the king merely smiled and continued, "as well as anybody, but in this case I worry for the both of them. The snow fortress is a cold place, and your sister is from a very warm area by the coast."

"What's it like?" Echirion got a look from his little brother in speaking so boldly with the king, but he ignored it, just like the king did. "Is it a Keep?" The king nodded, still petting the now half-asleep hound leaning against his leg.

"It is a stronghold, yes, run by the snow-princes these last four centuries, though three different families of them, as they've died out repeatedly." He did not let the young princes' surprise at this deter him. "They are not dunedain, but from Dale, so their lives are shorter, and the battles have run at least as hard there as for us in the rest of the north. Even now when the dark beasts have fled the rest of middle earth, they still come there, driven out of the other hiding spots they might have had."

"Is it a large fortress-town, sire?" Amrothos was generally not much for ceremony, but it seemed the strangeness in sitting so informally with the king had got to even him. The king smiled in responce. "Nay, Amrothos," he replied kindly. "Just a small keep, with about forthy men of arms - we will send them reinforcements now that they've seen an increase in enemies, they're going to need it in the spring when the passages clear - a housekeeper, blacksmith and healer, and of course their seamstress and armourer."

"And isn't she a very special woman," Kitten mumbled, making the king laugh. "Yes, and not very like Lothiriel, I am afriad. They are only three women up there, usually, and I can not quite see them getting along." Neither if the two "princes" from Dol Amroth dared question quite what that meant, but they both pictured women like their cousin's wife-to-be the shieldmaiden and the lordesses. They were wrong entirely, but it was a good guess from what they had to guess from.

_For Anthi: Thank you! I am glad you see inprovement! Part of it is probably due to it being way easier to write a story when all your characters are in resonably the same place, but I hope I've learnt something these years while writing this story!_

_TapTap_

_Here for some help is the OOC family tree of Aragorn!_

_Please note that his mother Gilraen is alive in this story, as she mostly succumbed to grief, and it my belief that in this world, with plenty of grandchildren and even a few great grandchilden to please and distract her, she would not have faded._

_Arandura (born as Firiel) The oldest lordesse (old family friend, cousin of Aragorn's grandfather Arador)_

**_The king's children and grandchildren._**

**_By the first wife (wife diseased)_**

_Aradora. The Lordesse. Heir to Arnor. _

_Arathorn III. Died in the war._

Related:

_Aramir. Arathorn's seventeen-year-old son._

_Elena. (Properly named Elini - stars) Aramir's mother, the late wife of Arathor III._

**_By the second wife (wife diseased)_**

_Arion. Injured prince._

_Anoriel. The third lordesse. Also the married one._

_Araniel. The streetfighter._

_Ariel. The one most like a Gondorian princess, and also absolutely _least_ like a Gondorian princess._

_Arwen. The princess._

Related:

_Elvea. Anoriel's husband._

_Anna. Anoriel and Elvea's oldest daughter. About six years old._

_Calaiel. Daughter of Anoriel and Elvea. At an age with Aragorn's youngest sons, almost to the day._

_Miriel. Anoriel and Elvea's baby daughter._

_Eowyn Alasse. The third wife's daughter, younger than her five children with Aragorn._

**_By the third wife (wife diseased)_**

_Estel and Eldarion, twins at four years old._

**_Fourth wife_**_. Called Tari, utterly sarcastic._

**Royal Family Dogs:**

_Elendil - Aragorn's dark grey hound_

_Anarion - Arion's light grey hound_

_Isildor - small hound, belongs to Aradora_

_Gil-ranger - belongs to the second wife's daughters. Tends to guard Arwen a lot._


End file.
